Perfect Delivery
by Welsh mama
Summary: Modern AU : Sybil Crawley is a newly qualified midwife who becomes more involved with a patient's life than expected. Winner of two Highclere Awards - best Tom characterisation and best Sybil characterisation.
1. Chapter 1

_Since discovering this site a couple of months ago, I have been impressed and inspired by so many talented writers and have loved reading many stories. It's probably 12 or 13 years since I last wrote any fiction (before marriage, children and general life got in the way), but I decided to give it ago and have really enjoyed the process. I have a plot outline for about 12 chapters, if you think it is worth continuing, or it can just stay as a one shot. I have tried to review all the stories that I've enjoyed and your constructive input would be very much appreciated. Thank you!_

_NB: I have spent more than my fair share of time in antenatal clinics, but I am not a medical professional, so if any details are incorrect or unrealistic, I apologise._

* * *

She first noticed him as she stood in the lift. Sybil was carrying a large pile of patient files in her arms and stepped immediately to the side in order to let others enter behind her. Leaning back on the wall, she looked firstly down at her pile of paperwork and then directly ahead. He was standing against the opposite wall. His dark blond hair fell forward on to his forehead as he stared at the floor, but as he lifted his head and pushed the hair back with one hand, she saw the startling blue of his eyes and creases at their outer was older than her, most definitely, but probably no more than thirty, so she briefly considered that he must smile a lot in order to have such lines. It had become an ever increasing habit of hers to sum up attractive looking men in abstract settings; certainly there was a reassuring feeling of safety when observing them anonymously without any intention to take matters further. Since Larry's unfaithfulness, she had shied from any attempt of meeting anyone else and avoided any situation which might lead to direct interaction with interested males. She went out with friends solely to catch up and socialise with them and would find hasty excuses to leave if they were subsequently approached by any potential suitors. Her eyes were still turned by an attractive man, but she preferred the security of watching them when they were not expecting to be observed and to avoid any verbal contact. That way she could use her imagination to mould them into gallant and charming individuals and without conversation, they were unlikely to ever disappoint her.

"Maternity please" he said to the lady on his right who stood by the lift's controls and through her daydream, she picked up an accent of some kind. He was holding a small carton of apple juice in his left hand and rubbed his nose with the other, when his eyes caught hers staring and he smiled. It was a slow confident smile, that of a man who was probably used to women finding him attractive, but friendly and without apparent arrogance. Sybil immediately looked down at her files and pretended to studiously read the name on the top one. The lift stopped at the first floor and a young woman, pushing a child in a buggy, entered and attempted to move to the edge where Sybil was standing. She stepped forward in order to give the child more room and found herself directly in front of the man, who was still smiling at her. She looked away quickly and stole a glance behind her in order to check that the child and its mother had sufficient space. As she twisted her torso to look, her arms moved and the top file slipped, clattering down on the ground beforehand. Several sheets of paper, covered with confidential patient information fell out and Sybil gasped with frustration and irritation. Before she could bend her knees and retrieve them, not an easy task while still trying to balance five other thick files, the man leant down and swiftly gathered the papers, slipping them back into the file. He stood up and placed it back at the top of the pile in her arms, still smiling. "Thank you very much" Sybil responded, chiding herself inwardly for her carelessness and wondering for the umpteenth time why, in an age of ever developing technology, the NHS retained its system of writing letters and printing everything out on paper.

The lift stopped at the third floor, home to the maternity and ante-natal departments and Sybil prepared to step out. She glanced again to her right at the man who had helped her and he winked conspiratorially, leaning forward and whispering "I didn't read a thing, promise". She smiled politely, hoping she looked at least a little grateful and walked out, turning right to the antenatal reception area, where she needed to leave the files. As she turned into the office, she glanced back and watched the man pass behind her, walking towards the patient waiting room. Half of the room was visible from where she was standing and she saw him hold out the juice carton to a pretty blonde woman, who smiled appreciatively at him from her chair. Collecting her thoughts, Sybil concentrated on the receptionist in front of her, who thanked her for the files and told her that she would be working with one of the consultants, Miss Dawson that morning.

This was Sybil's second day in her new and first job as a qualified nurse. Although she'd wanted to study nursing for years, her interest in midwifery had arisen when her mother had fallen unexpectedly pregnant again, while Sybil was studying for her A levels. Her parents had always originally hoped for a fourth child, but almost eighteen years after their third daughter's birth, the possibility had long since left their thoughts. After the initial shock and surprise, the whole family was delighted and prepared excitedly for their new arrival. Her mother had enjoyed three uncomplicated pregnancies previously and there were plenty of forty-something mothers nowadays, so there was no reason to be unduly concerned. However, at 22 weeks gestation, the baby had inexplicably died in the womb and her mother had been forced to undergo a traumatic induced delivery. An autopsy had provided no answers and her brother's death had been recorded as an 'unexplained miscarriage'. At that point, Sybil had decided to train specifically as a midwife and to work with those who specialised in foetal care. She had graduated with a first class degree and after a summer of travelling to interviews around the country, had managed to secure a prestigious position at St Mary's hospital in central London.

Miss Dawson was highly regarded in her field and was one of three full time consultants who worked in maternity and ante-natal care at the hospital. Sybil was sitting in on her morning appointments and joined her shortly before their first patient was called. This was a lady in her mid-thirties, who had experienced four miscarriages previously and who was now 16 weeks pregnant. She was understandably anxious and Sybil admired the way that Miss Dawson confidently reassured her without offering any firm guarantee that this one would be successful. A scan showed a healthy heartbeat and a wriggling foetus and the expectant parents visibly relaxed as they were shown the picture on the screen. After some routine questions from both parties, they left to make a follow up appointment with the receptionist and Miss Dawson prepared Sybil for their second patient.

"Edie Branson is 19 weeks." She explained. "She was admitted with a suspected miscarriage at 9 weeks but the baby survived. She has experienced intermittent bleeding subsequently and we are therefore seeing her fortnightly. She has, at times, come in between these routine appointments when there has been another scare, but as far as her notes show, all has been well since we last saw her." Miss Dawson called the patient's name on the loudspeaker system and a couple of minutes later, the door opened. Sybil recognised the blonde woman from the waiting room and behind her followed the man from the lift. He smiled in recognition and said "hello again". Miss Dawson glanced at Sybil questioningly. There were quite strict rules within the department about treating anyone with whom you had a personal relationship and staff were sometimes asked to swap with one another when an acquaintance made an appearance. Sybil swiftly reassured her "we came up in the lift together" and stretched out her hand to Edie in introduction "Sybil Crawley. I'm one of the midwives" she explained. Edie nodded with a friendly smile before taking her indicated seat, while the man proffered his own handshake and stated "Tom Branson" as he also sat down.

Sybil listened and took notes as Miss Dawson talked to Edie and assisted her with taking the routine blood pressure and urine tests. Once again, the scan was positive and Sybil watched as Tom took Edie's hand lovingly while they watched the baby move about on the monitor. Miss Dawson confirmed that there was no current reason for anxiety, but that she would like Edie to return again in a fortnight, unless there was any further bleeding in the meantime. "This baby is a fighter" she said with a smile. "I'm not entirely reassured yet, but we are getting closer to it being viable, so every week is good progress. You should be having your routine 20 week scan downstairs very soon, have you received your appointment for that yet?"

Edie nodded and sighed, "Yes, Tom can't make it unfortunately. He is going to be away, covering the conservative party conference" at that point she looked up at Sybil and said proudly "he's a journalist you see".

"Aye" added Tom "and I have to cover all three of the main ones, so I might not be around for our next appointment here either Miss Dawson, but Edie's friend has agreed to step in and hold her hand in my place".

They all shook hands and the Bransons walked to the door. "Thank you again" called Edie as she left and Tom turned back to smile at them both. Miss Dawson was writing notes and murmured "you're welcome" while to Sybil's surprise, Tom Branson winked at her before disappearing out of the door. Sybil couldn't help but smile, before quickly turning back to Miss Dawson and preparing for their next patient.

Four days later, on her day off, Sybil was browsing in a card shop near her home in Clapham, South London. It was her friend Anna's birthday this coming week and although she was going out for dinner with her the following weekend, she wanted to post a card so that it would arrive before the day itself. As she flicked through a rack of amusing captions, she was startled to hear someone say "Hello Nurse Crawley" behind her. Turning, she saw a smiling Tom Branson, holding a small paper bag. He introduced himself again and added "we met at the hospital on Tuesday".

"Yes I remember" stated Sybil, surprised that he recalled her name. "Um what are you doing here then?"

He grinned and lifted up the paper bag "same as you, I expect"

"Do you live round here?" asked Sybil for want of something to say and he nodded before adding "And work. So, do you live in Clapham too?"

Sybil confirmed that she did and he smiled again, his eyes crinkling in a very attractive manner, "I'm surprised that I haven't seen you around before." He paused before adding "I'm sure that I would have noticed you". Sybil was rather shocked, was he flirting with her? She felt slightly uncomfortable and decided to leave for another card shop, she hadn't found anything suitable here anyway.

"Well, excuse me, I have to go now. I'll probably see you at one of your appointments" she murmured and started to edge towards the exit.

"Yes, or maybe around here again" Tom added with another smile. He tipped his head to one side and asked "So, do you go out round here much? I mean in the evenings, bars and stuff?"

Sybil was feeling quite internally outraged now. He was clearly a womaniser and that poor woman, she seemed so sweet, carrying his baby and having all that added worry about it. Was she aware that her husband was eyeing up every female of a certain age? She pursed her lips in a manner of which her grandmother would have been proud and said stiffly "You are not going to have much opportunity to go out soon". Tom didn't seem to have noticed her disapproval and smiled again "well we've got a while to go yet"

Sybil lifted herself up to maximum height and took a first step towards the door before adding "Your wife will need all your help and support in the run up to the birth, as well as afterwards".

For a moment, Tom Branson's face clouded in confusion, before his eyes widened and a slight flush coloured his cheeks.

"Oh, Miss Dawson didn't explain then" he said quickly.

"Explain what?" Sybil took another step towards the door. Really, she didn't want to speak to this dreadful man any longer. But as she moved away, Tom reached out to halt her progress. He meant to touch her arm, but she turned as she walked and instead his hand landed accidently on her waist. They both looked down briefly at his hand, before he dropped it quickly and as Sybil glanced angrily at his face, he at least had the temerity to look awkward and embarrassed.

"Sorry" he muttered "It's just that Edie isn't my wife. She's my sister".


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you very much for all your very encouraging reviews, they have spurred me on to write the next couple of chapters quickly! This one sets the scene a little more, before Chapter 3 (hopefully finished and up in a day or so) moves the plot forward a little. _

* * *

"Your sister?" repeated Sybil, somewhat incredulously. Was this the next stage of his womanising technique perhaps, to be dealt out to women who didn't initially jump at the chance to go out with a married man? Tom's cheeks had turned increasingly crimson as he scuffed a shoe around on the floor and shoved his hands in his pockets, awkwardly.

"Er, yes. I can see what you thought though…um, well I'm sorry that I didn't…., well the father has buggered off, you see and so she asked me to come with her." He felt as if he was starting to babble incoherently and so took a deep breath, looking up at Sybil who continued to look disbelieving. "Anyway, Miss Dawson knows the situation", he continued "and I apologise if I seemed a bit out of order just then." Suddenly he just felt overwhelmingly weary about the whole situation and wanted to leave. This probably wouldn't be the first case of mistaken paternity for his niece or nephew, but he felt deeply embarrassed by it all the same.

"Well, that's very noble of you" offered Sybil tentatively "and I am sorry that I jumped to conclusions".

"I'll see you at the hospital some time" replied Tom, slowly moving backwards towards the shop door and wanting to end the conversation as soon as possible. They each muttered an awkward "Bye" and Tom turned and walked swiftly back out on to the street.

"Balls" he muttered as he hurried along the pavement, back to work. He must have looked like a prize prat in there, flirting with her and hinting at seeing her socially, while she thought he was just a creepy Dad-to-be. He had initially thought that he'd just completely misread her, for he had been certain that she'd been checking him out in that lift at the hospital. Without arrogance, he could admit it wasn't an unusual situation, but it was quite a long time since he had felt any interest in return. Then he had seen her in the shop and it had seemed as if fate might be on his side for once. Actually he was genuinely surprised that she lived so close to him and that he hadn't noticed her before, she was just his type with her long, luscious curls, bright blue eyes and those pouting lips. Although, in all likelihood she probably didn't frequent the type of pubs he tended to visit after work; she looked rather classy and probably spent more time in the smart and in his opinion, rather soulless bars, which lined Clapham's social streets.

Oh God, how embarrassing. Under normal circumstances, he would probably laugh it off, knowing that he wouldn't see her again, but he was going to see her every two weeks for the next four or five months and be repeatedly reminded of the whole awkward exchange. He acknowledged that the situation was probably representative of others he would face in the future. Friends had commented that he would be a substitute father ("all the hard work and none of the fun in getting there, Tom!") and he knew that helping Edie was going to curtail his social life for a while, but now every available woman was clearly going to think that he was taken. Perhaps, he thought ruefully, it might get better, he could pretend to be a divorced Dad, like in that Hugh Grant film, and attract girls with his devoted parenting style. Oh well, it was too late now, he'd made his promises and he would stick by them, although he was fully aware that he probably didn't know what he was letting himself in for entirely. However, Edie was his responsibility and he owed it to her to help look after her in her time of need. After all, it was his fault that she'd met that bastard, Charlie in the first place. He hadn't even known him all that well, but he was in the same Sunday morning football team which played on the common and Edie had met him in the pub after a game. He had been a decent enough centre forward, but a crap boyfriend and when Edie had announced that she was unexpectedly pregnant five months later, had accused her of trying to trap him. He'd then swiftly moved out of the area, changed his mobile telephone number and even had his work extension number altered. When Edie had finally managed to reach him through the switchboard, he'd curtly told her that he had nothing else to add and that that he did not want to be a father. "I suggest you get rid of it" he had muttered, before putting the phone down.

Edie had briefly considered that option, but a combination of Catholic guilt and maternal longing had led her to discount it. She had initially come to London for a year in order to spend more time with her favourite brother and enjoy some new found freedom. However, she had obtained a job working in Marketing for a national charity and loved it. Despite her mother's pleas for her to return home to Dublin, she wanted to return to the role after maternity leave and to stay where she was. Tom had felt responsible for the circumstances which had led to her situation and had promised to help bring the baby up. Both had given notice in the flats they shared with others and were now renting a worryingly small two bedroomed dwelling, close to Clapham Junction railway station. Edie would have to share a room with her baby until she was in a position, as she assured Tom she would be eventually, to live independently. Neither of them had expected the pregnancy to be so terrifying. She was only 23 and in fine health, so they had naively believed that apart from a little sickness, she would breeze through it. In fact, there had been no sickness at all in the early weeks, but just as she had made the final decision to go through with it all, she woke one morning to find blood on her sheets and a cramping sensation in her stomach. Her then flatmate had driven her to the nearby hospital and Tom had received one of the worst phone calls of his life, when he'd heard his little sister sobbing and begging him to come and sit with her. Miraculously – and that was the exact word used by the sonographer at the time – the baby was alive and within 24 hours, the bleeding had stopped. Edie returned home believing that her scare was over, only for it to happen again nine days later. It was at that point that Edie had been referred to 's and Miss Dawson's expert care and they had lived the last two months in a state of constant anxiety. Edie was now on sick leave from work and spent much of each day fielding calls from their anxious mother, who alternated between demanding that Edie return home and threatening to leave her job and come and live with them. Tom wasn't sure which option was more worrying. Certainly, a return to Dublin would leave Tom off the hook in terms of antenatal appointments and changing nappies, but he didn't want Edie to have to put every ambition on hold, or in all likelihood abandon them altogether. They were both quite sure that once Mrs Branson had her daughter and grandchild settled in her house, there would be little chance of escape for many years.

Tom's embarrassment faded to distant memory over the following week, as he travelled to Blackpool in order to cover the Conservative Party conference. He worked long hours, sitting in on speeches and meetings during the day and writing up his articles in the evening, ready for the following day's publication. This was his first firm assignment of this nature and he was determined to make a positive impression. Edie kept in touch by text and email and while he was disappointed to miss the 20 week scan, which thankfully revealed no defects, but showed most clearly that Baby Branson was a boy, he enjoyed the opportunity to network and get his name and face known amongst seasoned political journalists.

After a brief weekend back at home, it was the turn of the Labour party to be under the spotlight and he then spent the week in Manchester, feeling less rattled by the policies under discussion and more at home with the delegates with whom he networked. Meanwhile, Edie was back at St. Mary's for her routine appointment with Miss Dawson, accompanied for the second week running by her former flatmate, Daisy. Sybil was assisting once again and couldn't help but warm to Edie's gentle manner and teasing nature.

"I hear that you thought my brother was a rampant womaniser, Miss Crawley" she said shyly as Sybil took her blood pressure. "He felt very awkward about it afterwards". Sybil shook her head as she read the monitor. "It's my fault really" she admitted, "I shouldn't have jumped to any conclusions. And anyway, it's absolutely none of my business."

"Well that's not entirely true Sybil" interrupted Miss Dawson, as she overheard the conversation. "While we cannot determine a medical causal effect, there is evidence to suggest that settled personal circumstances may benefit those pregnancies which are already prone to difficulties. As Miss Branson has agreed to take part in my current research project, it's important that I know some details of her personal life and whether or not she is supported at home, both prior and after the birth."

"I don't think there are many brothers who would act quite as gallantly under these circumstances." Edie offered. "I'm extremely lucky and certainly don't take it for granted. He's going to be a wonderful uncle and if all this doesn't completely put him off, a fantastic father one day".

There were thankfully no further problems and Miss Dawson asked Edie to return once again in a fortnight. "Tom will be back on duty with me then" she smiled, before thanking both members of staff again. Sybil briefly imagined how she would have coped if she had become pregnant with Larry's baby and had been similarly abandoned. Her parents would have been furious, although she suspected that they would have eventually come around to the idea. She didn't have a brother and it was difficult to imagine either of her sisters offering the same level of practical support as Tom Branson. Edie had been unlucky in love, but was certainly fortunate to have her brother's unselfish and generous nature.

Later that evening, Sybil drove over to her friend Anna's house in Dulwich so that they could go out for dinner and celebrate the latter's birthday. She was slightly unnerved by the noise emitting from the car's engine on the way there and asked Anna and her fiancé, John to listen to it before she set off for home again. "It sounds like the alternator" suggested John, "I think it needs re-tuning. I'm afraid that I wouldn't really know what I'm looking for, can you book it into a garage at the weekend, before you break down somewhere?"

"I'd follow you back if I hadn't drunk too much wine" offered Anna, "but please, please text me when you are home so that I know you're safe." Sybil promised and, despite an anxious moment when the engine cut out at some traffic lights on the South Circular, returned home without major incident. She had a look in the Yellow Pages and found a garage less than a mile away, so took the number with her to work in order to make an appointment for the following Saturday.

The receptionist at the garage had asked her to bring in the car before 9am so Sybil had to forgo her much anticipated lie-in, but struggled through South London traffic and a dubious one way system in order to arrive a few minutes late. There was nobody at the desk in the tiny office adjacent to the open garage and Sybil stood waiting for someone to notice her, giving an occasional cough to register her presence.

"Sorry for the delay, how can I help?" asked an Irish voice behind her eventually and Sybil spun around in instant recognition. Standing in front of her in oil stained overalls and wiping his hands with an old rag was Tom Branson.


	3. Chapter 3

They both stared in surprise at each other and for a brief moment, neither knew what to say. However, Tom found his voice first and offered a teasing "We'll have to stop meeting like this or people will talk."

When she thought about it subsequently, she couldn't quite put her finger on why she felt so rattled by the beginning of their exchange. However, to her own surprise she replied in a more aggressive tone than she normally possessed "I thought you were supposed to be a journalist?"

Tom's head jerked backwards slightly in surprise and his face registered irritation. "I am a journalist" he stated, looking at her directly and dropping his rag on a nearby bench. "I'm a freelance journalist and it doesn't pay as much as I'd like yet, so I work here on a Saturday…. Is that OK with you?" Her accusing tone had got under his skin. He was exhausted after the last couple of weeks and his usual easy going nature was wearing thin. But Sybil didn't seem satisfied and he rose swiftly to the bait.

"Is there anything else that you are avoiding telling me?" she asked crossly, still unsure as to why she was challenging him in this way, but feeling unable to concede. Tom threw his hands up in the air in frustration and his voice rose, "I am NOT avoiding telling you anything!" His finger jabbed accusingly towards her as he continued "YOU jumped to the conclusion that I was the baby's father and my SISTER told you that I was a journalist. Which I am. But I'm sorry, I didn't realise that I needed to provide my full employment status when I accompanied someone to a hospital appointment."

Sybil knew that she had behaved wholly inappropriately and that she had no right to accuse him in this manner, particularly after she had listened to his sister's glowing praise. However, she felt a nervous energy as she stood before him and couldn't find the words or manner with which to apologise. She had become so distrusting of men over the last year or so that she didn't know how to react when they defied her low expectations. She held out her car key and muttered "My friend thinks it's the alternator" while using her head to indicate the vehicle behind her. Tom snatched the key and marched over to her car, still furious at her suggestion that he was behaving in any way dishonourably. He had dealt with his fair share of aggressive customers over the years and could usually placate them with well chosen words and a friendly smile. However, this time he had been wrong footed and through his weariness, could only reflect briefly on what a poor impression they were making on one another.

""When was it last serviced?" he asked curtly, as he lifted up the bonnet and held it in place.

"In June" Sybil replied.

"Here?"

"No, in Yorkshire. It was fine then, I think"

"You think? You don't know for sure?"

"Well, um…my father had it done at the garage on his est…." she stopped mid word, realising that it would only provide added bait.

"Right and are you paying today, or are we sending the bill to Daddy?" Tom felt self-hatred as he said it, knowing that he was being unfair, but he had been unjustly wounded and wanted to retaliate.

"I'm paying" replied Sybil quietly, but as she saw Tom face smirk, became instantly indignant.

"You don't know anything about my life" she added with defiance, lifting her chin and challenging him wordlessly. As soon as she said it, she knew what his response would be, after all she had handed it to him on a plate.

"Well I guess I was just jumping to conclusions then" he replied with a sarcastic smile and turned back to the engine.

"Everything alright there Tommy boy?" boomed a male voice to Sybil's right and from a path at the side of the garage appeared an older man in overalls, carrying two paper bags from Greggs the bakers and pile of paper napkins. "Good morning madam, is everything OK?" he asked as he leant forward to Tom and handed him one of the bags. Tom thanked his colleague but didn't look up at Sybil.

"Fine thank you." she responded and offered the man what she hoped was a winning smile. There was no point in getting on the wrong side of him too. "Well I'll be back later this afternoon?" she queried and started to step towards the exit.

"Can I take your number then?" asked Tom, his head still buried in the front of her car.

"WHAT?" Sybil practically screeched. Did he never give up?!

Tom turned round and looked at her pityingly. "So that we can ring you when it's ready" he said slowly, clarifying each word as if speaking to a young child. Then his voice turned to a low mutter, "Don't worry, I don't want to ask you out".

Sybil felt her face turn crimson as she realised the implication of her mistake and glanced at Tom's colleague who was now leaning against the fence with an increasingly amused expression. She scrabbled in her handbag to no avail and then looked wildly around her as if a pen and paper might surprisingly materialise. "Just leave it on the desk" Tom snapped impatiently, as he turned back to the car and Sybil hurriedly walked back to the office, writing her name and mobile number on a post it pad and sticking it on the large diary which lay open on the desk.

She nodded at Tom's colleague, who gave her a cheery "we'll give you a ring later then!" and walked swiftly past Tom, who studiously ignored her, out into the street.

Tom looked up at his colleague, Dave who was smiling broadly as he munched the last of his sausage roll. He indicated his head towards the street and Sybil's disappearing back and whispered conspiratorially "Is she one of your past conquests then, Tom?"

"No!" exclaimed Tom quickly. "She's just a snooty cow, that's all. A spoilt little rich girl"

He walked to the driver's seat of Sybil's car, feeling heat in his cheeks as he studiously avoided Dave's continued gaze and placed the key in the engine. He had definitely lost interest in her and she was the one who should be embarrassed, but she didn't need to look quite so horrified when she'd misunderstood him. He felt affronted by her accusations and offended by how much she clearly disliked him.

Sybil spent most of the day in local shops and cafés, feeling restless and rather ashamed of herself. She was known by friends and family to generally possess a kind nature and to mostly see only the best in others. Her behaviour that morning had been out of character and she didn't want to dwell on why Tom Branson had unsettled her in such a way. She knew that she ought to apologise when she returned, although she wasn't sure that she deserved for it to be accepted with any grace. In the end it was Dave who telephoned her to tell her that her car was ready for collection and Tom was nowhere to be seen when she arrived back at the garage. As she handed over her credit card to pay, Dave asked, "I hope that my colleague wasn't impolite this morning, Miss Crawley?" Sybil shook her head and looked down at the desk shamefaced.

"No, I'm afraid that I was rather rude to him, please apologise to him for me"

"I will" Dave smiled and hesitated before continuing "he's a good lad really, only he's got a lot on his mind at the moment."

"I know" agreed Sybil to Dave's surprise.

* * *

Ten days later, Sybil had to attend an internal Health and Safety course and was able to leave for home directly afterwards, at five o'clock. On a rainy day such as this, her route out of the hospital was through the back door, which was slightly closer to the tube station and meant passing the main hospital canteen. Soon after the evening visiting hours for the wards had commenced, this was rarely busy at this time and Sybil sometimes bought a takeaway coffee for her journey home. As she considered this option, she noticed a familiar looking profile sitting alone at a table and realised that it was Tom Branson. Her initial instinct was to duck her head under the window and continue out to the exit but then she noticed him put his head in his hands and it occurred to her with a start that there could surely only be one reason why he was there.

As she opened the door to the canteen and started to walk towards him, he looked up at her in horror. "Is there any news?" he asked urgently, moving hurriedly to his feet.

Sybil placed her hands out before her and facing the floor, in what she instinctively hoped was a calming manner, and shook her head, "I'm sorry, I've been on a course this afternoon and I didn't know she was here. I just saw you in here and realised that Edie must have been admitted. What's happened?" Tom's shoulders slumped and he sat back down on his seat.

"She started bleeding at lunchtime again, so we came in and they said that the heartbeat is slowing down." he paused "Miss Dawson's really concerned, it doesn't look good."

"Is Miss Dawson with her now? asked Sybil softly

"She was, but they've given Edie some drugs in case the baby is born. To develop the lungs, I think?" he looked at Sybil for confirmation and she nodded as he continued.

"Well I don't know if it's the drugs or the emotional trauma, but Edie's fallen asleep so they told me to grab a drink. She's only 23 weeks gone, he won't survive, will he?" Tom's voice cracked slightly as he voiced his fears and he quickly coughed in order to try and disguise it.

"Well…" Sybil paused as she thought how Miss Dawson would counsel such a situation. "It's not impossible. Babies have survived at this point, but it is fairly rare before 24 weeks. If they can steady the heartbeat and keep her in for a while, try and get her another week along, there would be a much, much stronger chance. How long ago did the bleeding start?"

Tom glanced at his watch, "about four hours"

"Well, if she hasn't gone into active labour yet, then that's a positive sign and if the heartbeat hasn't dropped any further…"

"It hasn't." Tom interrupted, "I mean, it's still low….too low, but it isn't getting any lower…for the moment anyway."

"Well it might come back up again when the bleeding stops, the trauma may have had an effect," Sybil didn't want to give him too much hope, but he looked wretched and she hoped she could offer some comfort. She placed both of her hands on the table in front of her, briefly considering putting one of them on his but then immediately discounting it.

"Whatever happens, she is under the best care possible".

Tom nodded wearily. "I know"

"If anything can be done, it will be. She'll have to stay in for a while, I know you were both due in this week anyway, but is there anyone else who could come and keep her company at some point, to give you a break?"

"Our Mam's coming over in the morning" Tom replied "She spoke to her boss this afternoon and booked a flight, so she'll stay until Sunday regardless of what hap…" he stopped suddenly, not wanting to consider the possibilities any further.

Suddenly he rubbed his forehead in frustration and looked at his watch again. "I was supposed to be doing an interview at the Houses of Parliament at six o'clock" he said ruefully and mentioned the name of a back bench Labour MP with whose name Sybil was familiar. "I don't get those offered very often, so it's bloody sod's law that it's today." He shook his head, "Sorry, that sounds pretty unsympathetic, doesn't it? I mean, this is obviously far more important, but it just feels like….oh I don't know"

"like you could do with a break?" offered Sybil and he nodded his head and gave a grimaced smile.

"Sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you this…please….you're going home, don't let me stop you"

Sybil briefly stole a glance at her own watch and said suddenly "Go". Tom looked at her in confusion before she continued quickly, "You could be there in half an hour and it's not even half past five yet. I'll go up to the ward and sit with Edie until you get back. You could be less than two hours and if anything changes in the meantime, I'll ring or text you and you can come back."

"I…I…I can't" Tom stammered in surprise, "I mean that's very kind of you and everything, but I need to stay with her."

"You're giving up a lot for her at the moment, if you don't mind me saying." Sybil raised a hand in protest before he could interrupt "and obviously, I am not the best person to be commenting on your life after the way I behaved, but I don't see why you should forgo every opportunity, when she probably won't even realise that you're gone. I'm not just some random person you've met in the canteen, I mean I know that I don't know either of you really, but I am a qualified midwife and I can help to reassure her if she wakes." She looked intently at him, "Honestly, I've got nothing better to do at home."

Tom was still staring at her expressionlessly when she added "I was unspeakably rude to you last week and it's weighed on my conscience ever since." She smiled and leant her head to the side slightly, "Let me do this for you, even if it's for purely selfish reasons, to make me feel better about myself?" Sybil paused before adding finally "Anyway, you did mend my car beautifully, so I owe you twice really."

There was another brief silence before Tom suddenly leapt to his feet, looking once again at his watch.

"Right!" he announced with sudden animation in his voice. "Let's do it." He grabbed a bag, which was lying by his feet, opened it up and pulled out a notebook and pen. "Here's my mobile number. If anything happens, any news either way, just ring me and I'll come back immediately, OK?" Sybil nodded before he continued, "and if this guy is late or pisses me about at all, I'll just leave and come back."

Sybil rose to her feet and gathered her own bag, preparing to walk to Edie's ward, when Tom exclaimed, "Hang on!" Expecting another obstacle to emerge, she was surprised to see him reach back into his bag for his notebook and hand it out to her.

"Can you write your mobile number there, so I can let you know if I get delayed or anything?" As she leant forward on the table to write it down, he added quietly, "for purely professional purposes once again, of course". Sybil stood back up and handed him the notebook, guilt at her previous behaviour seeping back into consciousness. However, to her surprise, Tom was smiling gently at her. Before she could think of a response, he turned on his heel and started marching to the canteen door.

"Thank you so much! See you in two hours, max!" he called and walked swiftly out and towards the hospital exit.

Sybil made her way quickly upstairs to the ward and saw Miss Dawson writing notes at the nurses' station. Her mentor looked at her with surprise, "What are you doing here, Sybil? You can go home straight after the course today." Sybil explained her actions, omitting to mention that she had reason to feel that she owed Tom Branson a good deed. Miss Dawson frowned,

"Do you know the Bransons personally, Sybil?" Sybil shook her head.

"It's not a good idea to get emotionally involved" Miss Dawson continued kindly, "It's hard at first not to care too much about what happens to these ladies, but it will exhaust you if you take every case to heart. You have to learn to detach yourself from it all, that's part of what makes one a good, objective nurse." Sybil's stomach muscles started to clench, was Miss Dawson going to forbid her to see Edie, after she had made such a confident offer to Tom?

The consultant sighed and looked down the corridor behind her. "She's in Room 4" she said kindly. "I'm going to overlook it on this one occasion, as you've made a promise to her brother, but I have to ask you not to do anything like this again, Sybil. Do you understand?" Sybil assured her that there would be no repetition and asked how Edie was faring.

"Well, the baby's heartbeat has stabilised, but it's still lower than normal. The bleeding seems to have halted for the time being, so only time will tell. We've given her dexamethasone in case labour starts. She's on a monitor but is asleep, which is the best option at the moment, her own distress wasn't helping the baby at all." Sybil started to make her way down the corridor before Miss Dawson added, "I'm going home shortly Sybil, Dr Clarkson is on duty this evening, so give him a shout if there are any developments. I'll let the Ward Manager know that there's a qualified midwife with her, so that she can free up someone else. Just let her know when Mr Branson comes back and you leave."

Sybil pushed the door to Edie's room open softly and could see her sleeping outline through the dimmed light. She sat tentatively down on a chair and then leaned forward to look at the flashing monitor to which Edie was attached. Standing up again, she leant carefully forward and picked up the paper which was spewing slowly from the machine and knowledgably followed the trace which tracked the baby's heartbeat. Satisfied that it was relatively stable for the time being, Sybil sat back in the chair and waited.

Without much light, she couldn't read, but she sent a couple of text messages to friends and reflected on how much better she felt in having had an opportunity to redeem herself, despite the worrying circumstances surrounding her good deed.

At just after six thirty, her phone beeped and she read its message.

**Finished. Leaving now. Thank u. Tom**

She sat back in her chair, feeling relieved that her temporary shift appeared to have passed without incident. Her thumb hovered briefly over her phone before she pressed a button.

**Save number to phone?**

Clicking on **OK**, she keyed **Tom Branson** and pressed **Save. **Then she sat back in the chair and waited for him to return.


	4. Chapter 4

Sybil asked Miss Dawson how Edie was, the following morning when she first came into to work, She hoped that her query wouldn't be considered inappropriate after her short stay by Edie's bedside. Thankfully, there were encouraging signs of improvement and the baby's heartbeat had returned to a more normal level. There had been no further bleeding and for the time being at least, the danger seemed to have passed. However, Edie would stay in hospital for the near future, until it was felt that there was no immediate cause for concern.

Edie had woken up about ten minutes before Tom's return and after her initial surprise at seeing Sybil sitting beside her, had been friendly and grateful for the favour she had bestowed. Sybil hadn't waited around once Tom entered the room, she politely asked him how his interview had gone and when he replied positively, had taken her leave and headed home. Tom had seemed highly relieved that their plan had succeeded, without any change to Edie's circumstances and again thanked Sybil gratefully for her kind offer.

The next day, Sybil finished work at 5.30pm and headed downstairs in the lift. As she stepped out and entered the lobby, she saw Tom leaning against the adjacent window. Smiling, he stepped forward and held out a small bunch of flowers, which Sybil recognised as having been purchased from the hospital shop. Her heart started thudding unexpectedly fast and she could feel her cheeks commencing an unwelcome blush.

"Just to say thank you again for what you did yesterday" he said cheerfully.

"Oh, I was happy to, honestly" Sybil replied truthfully "You needn't have bought these."

"Edie asked me to"

"Oh" Sybil felt a sudden rush of disappointment, but she made sure that she kept smiling.

"She feels bad about me having to be here with her so much, so she was relieved that I'd been able to do the interview. She knew that it was important to me."

"Will I be able to read your article in something?" asked Sybil and Tom mentioned a well known monthly current affairs magazine.

"Anyway," he continued brightly "we really appreciated it and our Mam too. She's here now" and he nodded his head towards the lift. His face suddenly flashed a brief grin. "Actually, Mam thinks that I should be taking you out for a drink to say thank you but I assured her that it would be a fate worse than death for you and that you'd probably prefer flowers."

Sybil looked down at the bouquet and lifted them up to pretend to sniff them so that she was occupied. "It wouldn't" she said quietly. Looking up at Tom, his face was entirely expressionless, but he didn't make any move to leave.

"Well…" Sybil wasn't quite sure what she was going to say next, but she suddenly knew that she needed to offer something more in return. "I don't expect it would be your idea of fun after my behaviour in the past, but you know….um….if you did ever want to….er, well, you know…..have a drink sometime, then I'd like that. So…."

"OK" replied Tom, cutting into her ramble. Sybil's head jerked up and she looked at him smiling at her.

"Let's have a drink in Clapham one night. To be honest, it would probably be best while Mam's still over here, because if Edie's still in hospital once she's gone home, then I'll be here every evening. While Mam's in residence, then I'm allowed some time off for good behaviour. So you tell me, what day suits you best?"

After agreeing a time, day and place, Tom nodded brightly, before starting to walk to the lift. "Good, OK. It's a date", then he blushed slightly "well, you know. As the saying goes."

* * *

They settled on Friday and Tom suggested a bar that he thought she would probably know. Sybil had been there with her friend Gwen on a couple of occasions. She had absolutely no idea what to wear. Was it a date, or was it just a thank you drink? Would they just have one drink or be out all evening? Should she make an effort to dress up, or just look casual? She considered asking Gwen round beforehand in order to help her decide, but Gwen would make much more of it than it was likely to be and for the time being, she wanted to keep the situation to herself. She knew now that she found Tom attractive, but the thought actually terrified her, for it had been so long since she'd felt any more than friendship for a man. Although he'd certainly been interested in her when they had first met, too much ill will had subsequently passed and she didn't know whether or not he was simply obeying his mother in taking her out. She was also fully aware that she ought to tell Miss Dawson that she was going to see Tom socially. It wasn't that her mentor would be unhappy with the situation itself, but she would certainly ensure that Sybil wasn't assigned to treat Edie in the future. There was a strong possibility, Sybil decided, that the evening would be a one off and that there would be no further consequences. Added to that, nobody knew if Edie would even return to being an outpatient and if Sybil would therefore be attending any of her further appointments, so it seemed pointless to rock the boat.

At 7.30, Sybil tentatively pushed open the door to the bar and saw Tom immediately, sitting in the corner with a pint. He waved and stood up as she walked towards him.

"Hello, you look very nice" he offered with a cheery smile. "What do you want to drink?" Sybil had settled on leggings and a sparkly tunic, together with her favourite high heeled boots, which she hoped looked as if she was out for an evening, but hadn't made too much of an effort. Tom returned with a glass of wine and as he handed it to her, he lifted his pint towards her.

"Well, thank you again. Here's to…a truce?" Sybil smiled and nodded.

"Definitely. I'm really sorry again about what I…." Tom held up his hand to try and stop her

"A truce is a truce. We were both out of order at times, so let's just forget it, shall we?"

They were initally a little awkward with one another, each asking politely about the other's work. Tom explained that he was based mostly from home, but was sometimes at the office of whichever publication he was writing for. When there were few assignments available, he occasionally worked a weekday at the garage. Sybil told him a little bit about her job and where she had studied and they discussed Edie and the possibility of her staying in hospital until the baby was born.

As they neared the end of their drinks, Sybil nodded at his glass and asked,

"Would you like another one?" She was fully prepared for him to make his excuses, having done his duty and if that was the case, then she would simply nod in agreement and head for home.

"I'm supposed to be buying you drinks" Tom protested and began to stand up, putting his hand in his pocket to pull out his wallet. Sybil grabbed his now empty glass and willing herself to sound more confident than she felt, turned for the bar.

"You'll have to buy me a third one then!" she said teasingly over his shoulder. As she stood waiting to be served, she glanced back at him cautiously and was relieved to see him smiling as he fiddled with his beer mat on the table.

By the time that they had finished their second drinks, Sybil could feel the alcohol taking effect and some long forgotten sexual confidence seeping through her body. She looked at him expectantly, meaning to suggest that he return to the bar, however he was staring hesitantly at her. Her stomach knotted slightly, had he had enough of her company now, just as she was starting to relax and enjoy herself?

"Sybil…" he said awkwardly, "I'd love to have a third drink, but…"

"No, it's fine!" she cried, leaning down to pick up her bag, "You probably need to get home to see your Mum once she's back, don't worry. Sorry, I shouldn't have…"

"No" he interrupted loudly, "It's not that, it's just that I need to eat something." He paused and looked queryingly at her "I haven't drunk much recently and it's going to my head. I'm going to be slurring my words if I have a third pint on an empty stomach." Sybil smiled and chewed her lower lip anxiously, she still wasn't sure if he was inviting her to be part of this arrangement or not."

"So, do you fancy getting a pizza or something?" he asked.

* * *

The pizzeria was pretty busy, so they had to wait in a queue for a while and Sybil was actually fairly ravenous by the time they sat down. Her lunchtime sandwich seemed a long time ago and she was very pleased to note that Tom was ordering a starter as well.

"So is it just you and Edie in your family?" she asked, after the waiter took their orders and menus.

"No," Tom replied, "there's two more in between us. Kieran is two years younger than me"

"How old are you?" Sybil interrupted, "if you don't mind me asking?"

"29" Tom gave a sigh for dramatic effect "So the big 3-0 next year, I can't quite believe that really. Anyway, Kieran's 27 and he's up in Liverpool. He followed a girl from home there." Tom paused and smirked "unfortunately for him, the girl carried on to Leeds, but he had found a job by that point and liked it, so he stayed. He's a mechanic as well, our Dad owned a garage you see, so we helped him out at weekends when we were growing up. And then Fiona 's nearly 25 and much to Mam's relief, is quite happy to spend the rest of her life in Dublin. She got a traineeship at a big department store when she first left school and is doing really well there. And she's had a steady boyfriend for a while, so I can't see her leaving. I don't think Mam could cope with all four of us being so far away."

"You talked about your Dad in the past tense?" asked Sybil gently. Tom nodded.

"He died of cancer almost five years ago."

"I'm so sorry"

"Thanks. It was a huge shock because it just all happened so quickly. He was fit and healthy and only in his early fifties, but he had cancer of the colon and it just spread so quickly that they couldn't do anything much to help him." Sybil looked at him sympathetically, thinking of her own father and how devastated she would be if anything happened to him.

"So were you already in London by then?"

Tom nodded "I worked for a local paper in a suburb of Dublin after graduating and then applied for a job over here. I just wanted to live somewhere else for a while, just because I was 23 and I could, then he died about a year later. Mam told me that I should stay because Dad wouldn't want me to give up something I enjoyed, so I did And then two years later, they made me redundant anyway." He gave a rueful smile.

"So then you decided to go freelance?"

"Well, yes in principle, but it's taken 3 years to build it to a point where I earn a reasonable sum. I got a job at Dave's garage to tide me over and I just dropped a day a week as I could afford to. He's been brilliant, he knows it's not my priority, but he's kept me on and always asks me first if he needs another pair of hands. I do enjoy it, sort of, but I'd like to give it up eventually and just tinker around with my own car when I feel like it. But you know what London prices are like."

Sybil thought guiltily of the flat she lived in, owned by her father and for which she paid no rent. She knew she was very lucky, her nurse's salary alone would never enable her to live in this part of London otherwise. There was no need for her to reveal that information unless pressed, she decided.

"So what about you? Didn't you say that your father is in Yorkshire?"

"Yes, although my parents are down here a lot. They, um…have a flat down here and Dad works here a bit, so they go back and forth."

"What does he do?" Sybil decided to be as vague as possible and waved her hand around in the air in what she hoped was a nonchalant fashion,

"Property. And business stuff. It's all a bit complicated."

"Well he must be doing alright if he can afford a place down here too" Tom leant back as his starter was placed before him and smiled at her. "Any brothers and sisters?"

"Two sisters" replied Sybil, relieved that the topic had moved away from her parents. "Mary is 26 and a solicitor in Manchester. She's doing really well, probably because she can be a bit ruthless at times." Tom looked at her questioningly before Sybil continued, "I mean she's lovely at home, but I should think she's a bit scary at work. She's always known exactly what she wants and worked towards it, she never seems to doubt herself, it's a very enviable quality. She's going out with a really lovely man called Matthew, who it turned out is our third cousin, which was a bit weird."

"What, just a coincidence?" asked Tom

"Yes, they were introduced at a conference – Mary Crawley meet Matthew Crawley and so they talked about where their families were from and it turns out that our great grandfathers were brothers. And then Edith is 24 and after never knowing what she wanted to do, has started a farm shop on our estate and done brilliantly..." Tom stopped eating and stared at her incredulously,

"Your estate?" he queried. Sybil raised her hand to her mouth, furious with herself that she'd been so careless. She stabbed her food with a fork a few times and then continued,

"Yes. We come from quite an old family you see and there's a bit of land, and the village, and…"

"A village?" asked Tom, not quite able to believe what he was hearing. "Your Dad owns a village?"

"Well not the roads and things, they're owned by the council, but a lot of the buildings, yes. Shops, businesses and houses, that kind of thing."

Tom smiled, still stunned by her revelation and gently mimicked her earlier hand waving,

"Is that property, business and stuff?"

"Er yes." As Sybil watched him, she couldn't see any malice in his response, simply surprise. You know, it probably sounds really grand but my parents are lovely people and you can't help what you are born into…"

"Of course not, I just didn't….well you know, I don't usually mix in those kinds of circles", he laughed softly. "He's not a Duke or a Viscount or something, is he?"

"An Earl" admitted Sybil. Tom chucked again, "Then do you have a title too?"

"Please don't tell anyone" Sybil looked at him with pleading eyes. " Nobody at the hospital knows, I don't want to ever use it again. But yes, officially I'm Lady Sybil Crawley."

Tom returned to eating his meal, still shaking his head in amazement, but smiling all the same.

"My Dad must be spinning in his grave"

"Why?" Sybil retorted indignantly. "For socialising with me, just because of where I was born? Would he have judged me purely on an accident of birth? Isn't that just inverted snobbery and no better than what the upper classes have been accused of for hundreds of years?" Tom had the grace to admit that she was right.

"You're quite intimidating when you're cross" he said grinning at her. "I'm not judging you, I promise. I take people as they are, Earl's Daughter, nurse, journalist, mechanic, it's what's on the inside that counts, isn't it?"

With their awkwardness over, the two chatted easily from that point onwards, discussing Clapham's high and low points, films they'd enjoyed, debating music and books. They had plenty in common, but were able to argue healthily about some of each others choices.

"I'm sorry, but you will never get me to see a James Bond film" stated Sybil, putting her hands up in defiance, "I don't need to see one to know, I've seen enough adverts for them"

"You're missing out on an important part of your cultural heritage, you know…." teased Tom

"I'll live"

"I feel much the same about musicals" he admitted, "all that prancing about and taking three times as long to say something as speaking it."

"Musical films, you mean?"

"Musicals full stop. Mam and Dad took us all to see Cats when I was about 15 and God, I was so bored. If the Sound of Music comes on the TV, I have to leave the room."

"You have no soul" retorted Sybil, smiling. "You should see West Side Story, I bet you'd love that, it's in another league, I promise you. I've seen it about five times, in fact it's coming back to the West End again soon, I can't wait."

Tom placed his hands on the table in front of him and looked at her intently. His eyes bored into hers and Sybil felt her stomach do a brief somersault.

"OK, I'll offer you a deal" the corners of his mouth turned slowly upwards, before turning into a broad grin. "If you come and see Skyfall with me, you can take me to see West Side Story."

"Haven't you seen Skyfall yet then, if you're such a fan?" Sybil asked with surprise.

"Of course I have. Twice actually. But it has many hidden depths," he said laughingly "and I am more than happy to see it again if it educates you in the finer nuances of Mr Bond"

Sybil's mind was spinning, ' He wants to see me again' she thought, "oh God, I want to see him again, but what if it all goes wrong, I can't face being made a fool of again…" she could feel her heart racing and knew that her cheeks were once again betraying some of her thoughts. He was still looking at her, waiting for a response and she was delaying too long, she could see a slight seed of doubt form in his expression. She gave a loud cough, sat straight up in her chair, smiled broadly and put her hand out to shake his.

"You have a deal."

They left after that, Tom insisted on paying and then offered to walk her home.

"You don't have to, honestly. It's only 10 minutes, I'll be fine, I've done it lots of times before." she protested, wondering if he was simply being gallant, or had ulterior motives. "Besides, it's completely the wrong way for you."

"It doesn't matter. I wouldn't want Edie to walk the side streets on her own at this time of night and I don't want you to either."

They chatted amiably as they walked briskly along, the early November chill forcing them to each hunch into their coats and stick their hands in their pockets.

"Well, it's just here" Sybil indicated as they turned into a tree-lined avenue and nodded at a smart Victorian semi. "I've only got the ground floor, just in case you thought…"

"That your Dad had bought the whole thing?" Tom asked smiling. He had guessed her living arrangements now that she had explained her background. He didn't resent her for it, he knew that his parents would have tried to help their children with deposits and mortgages if they'd been in a financial position to do so. Sybil was fortunate, that was all.

"So the cinema visit will have to be after Mam goes home and when I know if Edie is going to be in long term. Can I ring you next week and firm it up?"

"Of course" replied Sybil, standing with anticipation at her front gate. Tom looked at her and smiled, her stomach did another somersault as she held his gaze.

'He's going to kiss me' she thought and with relief, realised that the thought no longer made her nervous. Tom leant forward slightly and Sybil moved her head to meet him.

Then he turned slightly to one side and planted a soft kiss on her left cheek, before standing back to his full height.

"Thank you for a lovely evening, Sybil. I'll phone you next week."

As he turned neatly away and started to walk back, Sybil sighed.

"Bugger" she muttered regretfully and turned to open her gate.


	5. Chapter 5

Sybil checked computer records about Edie every morning the following week. She was reluctant to ask Miss Dawson about her progress again and didn't dare enter the ward in case word was sent back that she had been asking questions. She was relieved to note that there had been no deterioration and that both she and the baby's condition remained stable.

It crossed her mind each afternoon that Tom must be in the building when she left to go home, but he didn't contact her, nor make any attempt to see her before he arrived for evening visiting. She knew that he had far higher priorities at the moment and although she was very keen to arrange their next meeting, she continued with her life and waited.

On the Friday morning, her daily investigation revealed that Edie had been discharged on the previous afternoon and had returned to weekly out-patient care. Regardless of whether or not Tom phoned her, she would see him the following Wednesday and she hoped he didn't make any reference in front of Miss Dawson, to their evening out.

Her parents were in London at the weekend and Sybil took the tube up to Kensington in order visit them on Saturday morning. She hadn't been untruthful when she had described their residence as a flat, it was after all on one floor. However, four large bedrooms, two ample reception rooms and three bathrooms meant that it was considerably more luxurious than the word implied.

"Darling, are you going to bring anyone to my fundraiser this year?" asked her mother, as they sat down with coffees in the main sitting room.

"At £150 a ticket? I don't think it's really affordable for any of my colleagues, I'm afraid." replied Sybil, who had become increasingly aware of how unrealistic her parents were about average life.

"I know, but it's for their own cause" her mother reminded. Cora Crawley, the Countess of Grantham, now organised an annual ball in central London towards the end of November, in aid of the Miscarriage and Stillbirth Association. It had been her main focus for charity fundraising over the last three years and despite it being a subject about which many people didn't wish to dwell or discuss, she had turned it into quite a fashionable and well attended event.

"Mum. Do you actually know how much I earn?" challenged Sybil. "And I don't have to pay rent!"

"I know. But I don't want you to have to be there on your own this year sweetheart."

"Why?" asked Sybil guardedly. "Won't Mary and Edith be there too?"

"Yes, but Matthew and Anthony will be with them and…"

"And what? Why do I need someone with me?"

Cora sighed, "Larry is going to be there, I'm afraid."

"What?!" shrieked Sybil. "Why is he interested in coming?"

"I don't think he is" Cora admitted, "but you know that his parents have been great supporters and it was a little awkward last year to have to ask them not to bring him. Elizabeth asked me if you were, well how should I put it, over him now?"

Sybil snorted indignantly "Of course I'm over him, but it doesn't mean that I want to socialise with him!"

"Well you don't have to talk to him for long, just be friendly and say hello and move on. There will be plenty of people for him to talk with and I believe that he's bringing a friend."

"A friend? Oh great! So he's going to parade some girl around and I have to stand and smile at him, is that right?'

"That's why I thought it would be good if you could bring a friend too, darling"

"So what you actually mean, is could I bring a man?"

"Well, that would be lovely of course, but a female friend for moral support would be perfectly acceptable, if not"

"I can't create a boyfriend for you Mum, I'm afraid". Sybil sighed and tried to briefly erase a vision of Tom in her mind. One pleasant evening did not make a boyfriend and he hadn't even rung her again, so there was no point in considering it. She would have to buy Gwen a ticket, she'd probably enjoy the whole glamorous occasion. It would be a rare treat for her, unlike for Sybil who had been brought up amongst smart dinners, dances and soirees. They held little appeal for her any longer, although she was proud of her mother's efforts in an area about which they both felt so passionate.

She enjoyed the weekend, her parents took her out for dinner on the Saturday evening and were interested in hearing more about her job and what she was learning. She stayed at their flat overnight and spent the morning helping her mother with the provisional seating plan for the fundraiser.

"I'd like to have my back to Larry, please. I don't want to be put off my dinner."

In the afternoon, she returned to her flat and caught up with the cleaning and washing that she often felt too exhausted or simply disinclined to attempt after work during the week.

Once finished, she dug out a box set of an American drama that she was watching on DVD and sat back to enjoy an episode or two with a glass of wine. Twenty minutes or so later, her mobile phone rang and she saw with delight that it was Tom.

"I'm really sorry that I haven't rung you sooner. Edie came out on Thursday, did you know that?' Sybil provided confirmation that she did and asked how she was faring. "Not bad. She's on bed rest now. Well, bed and sofa rest and she's getting a bit stir crazy already. I ended up working at the garage on Friday and yesterday and well, I've been knackered to be honest, all that commuting up to St Mary's every day." He paused slightly as Sybil made what she hoped were appropriately sympathetic noises, before continuing in a softer tone, "I hadn't forgotten about you, I promise." Sybil felt her stomach perform a quick loop-the-loop and added a murmured "I'm glad".

They arranged to see the film on Tuesday after work and met half way between their flats in order to walk together to the local cinema. Sybil saw him waiting outside the agreed shop as she approached and took some time to admire how handsome he was, particularly when he broke into a broad smile, as he did when he saw her.

Sybil had to reluctantly admit that Skyfall was not quite as awful as she had expected. She struggled to keep up with every twist and turn of the plot and grew tired of the high speed chasing and explosions which seemed to entertain the surrounding audience. However, she agreed afterwards that it had been well acted and more amusing than she had expected.

"I won't be rushing back for the next one though…" she warned Tom as they stepped back out into the cold autumn air.

"Fair enough, but you don't know unless you try. You want to be glad that you didn't meet me when Quantum of Solace was out, you'd have hated that" he chuckled "Quick drink?"

They found a small table at the back of an old pub around the corner and started piling their coats and scarves on a nearby bench.

"I know what I meant to ask you" Sybil began, "are you going to be Edie's birth partner as well?"

Tom groaned and put his head in his hands, shaking it in mock distress. "I'm really hoping to get out of it" he admitted. "I am happy to do everything else – hospital appointments, ante natal classes, nappies, feeding, but honestly…" he looked directly at Sybil and gave a mock whisper while gesticulating at his groin "no man wants to see his sister….down there, do they?"

Sybil giggled, "you could sit at the top end?" she suggested. "But hasn't she got a friend who could support her? You'll be no help to her at all if you're going to get all squeamish about it."

"Well that's the thing" continued Tom with a sigh "her friend Daisy did originally say she would. But now she's told us that she has a phobia about blood." he rolled his eyes slightly as he spoke.

"Had she forgotten about that when she volunteered then?"

Tom shook his head, "No, the thing about Daisy is that she's very, very sweet and keen to help anyone, but she is a bit ditzy. Apparently, she didn't realise that there would actually be any blood!" Sybil squealed slightly and laughed.

"Really? Did she think they come out washed, pressed and in a brand new babygro?"

"I think the expression she used was, 'I knew there would be a bit of goo on it, but…' "Tom shook his head disbelievingly again and Sybil continued to giggle. "Daisy is a friend from uni and apart from her, she's only got work friends over here. And she's only known them a year or so and just feels that it's too much to ask. So, Mam has booked flights to come over a week before the due date and to return a week afterwards. Her boss is really understanding and flexible and has said that she can change it at short notice if the baby comes early, especially with all the problems we've been having. But even if I phone when Edie goes into labour, she's realistically not going to be able to get here until the next day, so it'll be too late." He leant back in his chair and folded his arms "I think I'm doomed."

"I'll have to teach you some breathing techniques" suggested Sybil and Tom nodded, "I guess Edie will learn those at the antenatal classes."

"No, for you!" Sybil teased, "to keep you calm and avoid thinking about 'down there'. Goodness, I presume you'll be a bit braver if you ever have one of your own?"

"Well that's different, isn't it?" Sybil cocked her head to one side and raised an eyebrow, encouraging his obvious discomfort.

"Well….." Tom started to smirk "you know….presumably, I'll be a bit more familiar with the 'down there bits', won't I?" They both chuckled and Sybil marvelled at how well they could banter back and forth in this way, after knowing each other for such a short space of time. She took a large sip of her drink for courage and tentatively asked,

"So, haven't you ever been engaged or lived with anyone?"

Tom nodded, "Yes, I did live with someone for almost two years. We split up about eighteen months ago now."

"So what happened?" Sybil tried to act nonchalantly, but she already felt slight pangs of jealousy, tweaking at her insides.

"Nothing major" he shrugged "She wanted to move on to the next stage and get engaged and I just realised that she wasn't 'the one'. She was very upset, obviously, but you can't help the way you feel or don't feel."

"Did you think she might be 'the one' when you moved in with her?"

"I didn't know, to be honest. We both admitted at first that it was a rent saving scheme as much as anything. We would pay less sharing a one bedroomed flat together, than we would each having a two bedroomed flat with friends. We'd been going out for a few months and I did really like her, but it never really moved on from that for me. I should have told her before, I guess, but she was quite undemanding to live with and we each had our own friends and nights out, so it was all just a bit too easy."

Sybil hesitated for a moment, before asking further in a jovial voice "So hasn't there been a big love of your life?"

"Yes," Tom smiled and gave a brief sigh. "Sophie Healy. At uni. Looking back, she probably wasn't 'the one' either, but I definitely thought I was in love with her at the time."

Sybil decided that she had probably pried enough, despite desperately wanting to know more, and if she was completely honest, wanting to find Sophie Healy immediately and wrestle her to the ground. However, Tom elaborated with no further prompt.

"We were together for about the last year and a half of uni and I'd lusted after her for about a year prior to that. Then she got a graduate trainee job in Belfast afterwards and I spent every other weekend on a bus going to see her, until six months later, completely out of the blue, she told me that she'd met someone else. So that was that. My heart was broken." he made a mock sad face at Sybil and then grinned. "For a while, anyway. It seems a long time ago now."

"At least she told you" she muttered with some bitterness in her voice. Tom leant his head to one side and looked at her carefully.

"I take it someone didn't tell you?"

Sybil fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat and stared into her wine glass, she wasn't sure that she wanted to share the situation with anyone, but she accepted that she had voluntarily brought herself to this point and couldn't just deflect.

"My boyfriend….my only proper boyfriend really, " she hesitated for a moment and glanced briefly at Tom, happy to stop if he looked in any way disinterested. He was leaning slightly towards her, holding his pint, but not making any effort to drink it, just looking concerned and expectant.

"Right, well it's a bit of a long story, so I won't bore you with the intricacies" Sybil began nervously. "He's called Larry, and is actually the son of some friends of my parents. I've known him since I was tiny, but we only saw each other a couple of times a year, it wasn't like we, as children, were great friends or anything." Taking another hesitant slurp of her drink, she continued, "I remember playing with him when we were little, but then I actually found him a bit of a creep as a teenager. And then he ended up at my university. Different subject of course, but I hadn't got a clue that he'd applied there, my Mum just announced it shortly before I left. And he was really nice when I got there. It was actually good to see a familiar face and he was really sweet to me, inviting me to things and coming round to my halls of residence to say hello. He didn't try anything with me, I just saw him as a friend and then, in the second term, I got really bad flu and he came round every day with soup and drinks and aspirin, he was lovely and I just started to see him differently."

She paused slightly. "For a while, it was great. He was pretty popular and we had really good fun together. Our parents were delighted, of course, " she rolled her eyes, remembering the unsuccessful attempts at restraint that her Mum had shown in encouraging the relationship.

"Anyway, we were together for over a year and then just as we approached the end of the second year, he started avoiding me. At first, I just presumed he was working or out doing something, I remember that I kept making excuses for him in my head, because I couldn't believe that he'd just end it like that, without having the decency to tell me, especially with our parents being friends. But he had. I saw him in town with a girl, he didn't see me but I realised then. So I went round to his flat to confront him and she was there, it was obvious that they had been in bed and he just thought it was amusing. He just said 'sorry Sybil, but I thought you'd have got the message by now.' She looked up again and Tom was shaking his head.

"It's the not telling me that hurt most of all. I mean, I was pretty into him, I don't think I was in love with him really, but I thought with our families being friends, he'd have the decency to be honest. I'd have been hurt anyway, I guess, but it wouldn't have been so bad. And a couple of male friends of mine just said 'oh that's what men do, I'm afraid. It's easier.' so since then, I've been put off to be honest."

"I have never done that" said Tom slowly, wanting to choose his words carefully "maybe some men do, but not all. I have probably pissed girls off in the past….for various reasons….but I've never cheated on anyone and I've never avoided telling someone if I don't want to see them again. It's not nice, but it's, well….the decent thing to do really. I can't imagine doing what this Larry bloke did and being able to face myself in the mirror in the morning. He sounds like a complete tosser, Sybil."

"He is" she agreed and smiled, wondering if she'd made herself look rather fragile and unappealing.

"So have you had to see him since? With your families being friends?"

Sybil suddenly remembered the fundraiser and groaned. "I saw him around and about for my final year at uni, but once we weren't together, we tended to hang around in different places, so just had the occasional awkward encounter. When we graduated, I thought I could avoid him from that point but my Mum does this annual charity ball at the end of the month and apparently he's coming this year. So I am expected to be polite to him and friendly to his latest girlfriend, so I am just counting the days until that!" she grimaced in a sarcastic manner.

"Won't your sisters provide you with a united front?" Tom asked

"Yes, but my Mum keeps going on about me bringing someone." Sybil stopped suddenly, realising how that may have appeared as a not too subtle hint.

"I think she just wants to make sure that I'm occupied all evening. I'm beyond hurt now, you see, she thinks I might get angry!" she clenched her fist and made a mock, defiant punch of the air to try and lighten the mood.

"Well, as I said before, you are pretty scary when you're angry," Tom teased. "He should be worried."

"He won't be, he's far too cocky for that."

"So, have you persuaded someone to go with you, then?"

"Well, I thought I might ask my friend, Gwen, but she hates him too, as she had to deal with all my weeping and wailing afterwards, so I'm not sure now…"

"Don't you need a gallant man to glower at him and look intimidating?" Tom hoped he was keeping the suggestion light, but he was already imagining how he would enjoy trying to wipe the smug smile off an arrogant toff's face, if offered the opportunity.

Sybil felt hesitant, she wasn't sure if he was suggesting himself, or if he was still making light, general conversation.

"Well, that would make my Mum very happy, but unfortunately, I don't have a line of candidates knocking at my door," she laughed nervously. There was a brief, but poignant silence as they both wondered what to say next.

"Well…." said Tom slowly, "if you want…" he paused, feeling suddenly fearful that he'd misread her signals.

"I don't suppose you'd like to come?" interrupted Sybil quickly and then laughed shrilly, "sorry, I'm sure it's not your scene at all, ha ha"

"Why not?" asked Tom guardedly

"Well, you know…." Sybil fiddled with the hem of her top nervously and didn't look up at him. Then she continued, "Actually, I don't know. I just don't know if you would want to?"

"I've put my suit of armour in for dry cleaning at the moment" Tom replied solemnly, "but I am very good at an intimidating glower." He made a face that instantly made all of the rapidly building tension between them disappear and Sybil grinned happily at him.

"Really?" she asked, feeling suddenly shy.

He nodded, "how much are the tickets?"

"Oh don't worry about that, the least that I can do is pay, just let my Mum see you put twenty quid in one of her buckets or something and she'll think you're the best thing since sliced bread."

Tom asked her for the date it was taking place and started to type it into the calendar on his phone. He held up the time for her to see.

"It's almost eleven thirty, Sybil. We've both got work tomorrow, I think we should probably go home."

As they crossed Clapham Common and headed back to the high street, they both shivered simultaneously and Tom stuck his hands in his pockets. Bravely, Sybil linked her arm through his and Tom squeezed his elbow to his chest, bringing her arm closer.

"So…." he said cautiously and Sybil glanced up at him as she walked. "This ball, fundraiser thing…It's two and a half weeks away still…."

"Well, perhaps we could do something else in the meantime?" Sybil suggested, her stomach muscles tightening. It was as if they were conducting an awkward verbal dance around one another, each terrified of making the wrong move.

"Would you like to?" asked Tom.

"Yes. Definitely. Would you?"

Tom stopped suddenly, turned to her and smiled "Yes" he replied.

Then, suddenly they were kissing and Sybil wasn't at all sure who had made the first move. One moment, she had been smiling at him with shy anticipation and then, then next she had found that her arms were curled around his neck and his lips were gently covering hers. One of his arms was holding her tightly around the waist, while a hand slowly caressed the back of her head. And the best thing, she thought…..well maybe not the absolutely best thing…but certainly a matter of great relief after the last eighteen months…was that it didn't feel frightening at all. It just felt right,


	6. Chapter 6

_Once again, thank you so much for all your kind support and encouragement for this story, I'm really enjoying writing it and I've become rather addicted to reading your nice reviews! It's definitely motivating me to get on with the following chapter each time. However, I have an unusually busy week coming up, so there is probably going to be a bit longer between updates for the time being. This one has ended up being an extra chapter from my original plan, but I thought we needed to see them on their own a bit more – the fundraiser will be next. Back in a few days!_

* * *

Sybil should have felt shattered the next morning as she boarded her train to work, but jubilant excitement meant that she felt like skipping up the platform. It was amazing how many people smiled at you, even on public transport, when you had a permanent grin on your face, she reflected happily. She and Tom had stayed kissing on the common for a few minutes, their body heat making them impervious to the low temperature and breezy chill. Eventually they parted, stood smiling at each other and then both started laughing.

"Well, who'd have thought it" he chuckled as he held her hand and continued walking.

They had another kiss at the edge of the common, before reaching the bright lights of the high street and then another very long one outside Sybil's gate, which had led her to feel quite weak with desire. She didn't invite him in and he gave no suggestion that he wanted, hoped or expected to. Part of her certainly longed to, but her head warned her to wait.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Nurse Crawley" Tom murmured into her hair as he braced himself to leave her.

"Tomorrow?" Sybil was momentarily confused. "Oh God, tomorrow, at work! You can't….I mean, you mustn't…." Tom looked startled at her sudden anxiety. "We can't let Miss Dawson know" explained Sybil. "We're not supposed to…"

"fraternise with the patients' brothers?" Tom suggested and Sybil nodded.

"Something like that, yes."

"OK, I'll try and remember to just shake your hand and not stick my tongue in your mouth then." Sybil giggled and reached up for another long and passionate kiss.

He was true to his word and nothing in his expression the following day would have given anyone an idea of what had taken place the previous evening. However, Edie's knowing smile at Sybil as she walked in, confirmed that her brother had shared the development in their relationship.

"So, how are you feeling in yourself, Edie?" asked Miss Dawson once all of the routine checks and had been undertaken and they had all admired the baby's enthusiastic activity on the monitor.

"I'm so bored…" she admitted. "The idea of sitting and watching TV and reading books all day sounds very appealing, until you have done it for a couple of days. I feel like I want to scream at times."

"I can imagine" Miss Dawson replied sympathetically. "But you are doing the right thing for the baby, you'll have to just think of it as a very small period of time in your life." Edie nodded and sighed slightly before the consultant continued. "If the baby is born safely and healthily, then you will just forget all this, I promise. We are past the viable stage now, but there are still enormous risks in giving birth at this point."

"When would you consider it safe?" Tom asked.

"Entirely safe would be 37 weeks, which is when the baby's lungs are fully developed and we consider it to be full term. After that, they just put on weight, everything else is as it should be. So that would be our ultimate aim if possible. After 28 weeks there is a very strong chance of survival, but there are significant health and development risks, many of which don't become fully apparent until the child is older. I would say that from 32 weeks, pretty much any baby that is healthy in itself will live, but again there are still health risks. So with you currently being 25 weeks, you should prepare yourself for the possibility of another 12 weeks at home like this." Edie sighed heavily.

"It will be worth it if we can get that far", Miss Dawson reassured. "So I don't know what your Christmas plans are, but I would definitely recommend that you don't travel." The siblings glanced at one another briefly,

"We've already talked about that possibility" Edie said. "Our family is looking into coming over here instead. Hopefully, we can take the baby back to Dublin next year."

"Good" Miss Dawson declared as she stood up to indicate that the appointment was over. "Well, invite friends round to entertain you, do some cooking, listen to music…. Anything you can think of that doesn't exert too much energy. We'll see you next week. Sybil would you mind going to get Mrs Edmunds in the waiting room, as the loudspeaker isn't working today?"

The three of them walked along the corridor in a conspiratorial silence, but Sybil felt a brief stroke on the inside of her wrist, shortly before they reached the patients' waiting room and had to bite her lip in order to supress a giggle.

"Well, goodbye then, see you next week," she said breezily and with a brief and cheeky grin. They performed their roles dutifully and politely until Tom and Edie started walking away to the lift. As Sybil began to turn around into the waiting room, she saw Tom look back at her and mouth, "I'll phone you later".

As Mrs Edmunds remarked to her husband later, "That midwife Sybil is so happy and smiley isn't she?"

* * *

Tom didn't support the idea of playing games in relationships and phoned as promised that evening. They arranged another cinema date for the following week, this time to see a film that suited both their tastes and following that, Sybil offered to take Tom out for tapas on the Saturday night.

She was enjoying a long and leisurely bath at 6pm, prior to choosing what to wear, when he rang her.

"I'm really sorry to muck you around, Sybil" he began "but Edie's not very well at all and I'm a bit reluctant to leave her."

"What kind of 'not very well'?" Sybil asked with concern.

"Well it was just a cold at first, but she's very cold and shivery too. I know I sound like a hypochondriac but with everything else that has happened, I'm not sure if I should take her to the hospital and ask them to take a look at her."

"Would you like me to pop over and just see her first?" Sybil offered tentatively.

"Oh God, I was hoping you'd say that. Thank you, yes please, if you don't mind. And if you think she's OK, I'll cook you some dinner, would that be alright? It won't be as good as tapas but I just don't want to leave her on her own really."

Fifty minutes later, Sybil knocked on the Bransons' door and entered their flat for the first time. It was on the second floor, within an unattractive 1960s low-rise development block and Sybil gave silent appreciation for her father's generosity. A tiny hallway led into a bathroom on one side and the modest living/dining room on the other. From that, she could see the kitchen through an open archway and two doors, leading to the bedrooms. Tom directed her into Edie's, who sat in her bed, pale and red-eyed, wearing her dressing gown and with her duvet pulled up to her chin. Nevertheless, she smiled welcomingly at Sybil as she sat down next to her and asked her a list of questions. After having taken her temperature with a thermometer brought from home, Sybil smiled reassuringly.

"It's just a bad cold and temperature, that's all. I really don't think there's anything to worry about and certainly nothing that should affect the baby. You just need to sleep it off and drink plenty of liquids."

"Can she take anything for it?" asked Tom

"Paracetemol is OK, just stick to the right dosage and I'd suggest milk and honey if your throat is sore." She looked at Edie sympathetically. "You poor thing, you're getting hit from all angles at the moment, aren't you? Your immune system is down, so you've probably picked something up at the hospital on Wednesday, or Tom might even have brought a virus home but have been immune himself." She held Edie's hand for a moment. "Don't worry about the baby, I promise you that this will not harm him at all."

"Thank you" said Edie and began to snuggle down under her duvet. Sybil paused.

"There's something else I need to talk to you about though. I'm not supposed to form personal relationships with patients, or rather if I do, then I can't treat that person anymore." She squeezed Edie's hand, who was looking at her slightly, aghast. "I've been avoiding thinking about it, to be honest and because I'd only seen Tom outside of the hospital and not you, it didn't seem to matter. But now I've been in your flat and everything….oh don't cry, Edie."

"I…I'm sorry, but I don't want…..don't want" Sybil looked round at Tom anxiously and he moved forward to hug his sister. "Shhhhh, don't be silly" he murmured at her. Edie gave another sob.

"I'm sorry, Sybil, I know I'm being irrational, I just feel calm and safe with you. Miss Dawson is a little bit intimidating."

"Well, my colleagues are all very nice, Miss Dawson will assign someone else to see you…." Sybil's voice tailed off as Edie gave another little sob.

"Oh don't worry about it, I won't say anything, it doesn't matter." she said, more confidently than she felt.

"Well, we don't want you to get into trouble…" began Tom with hesitation.

"You won't. I was just abiding by the rules, but how will they ever find out anyway?" She squeezed Edie's hand again. "Don't worry about it, honestly. Miss Dawson doesn't live anywhere near here and you are both acting as if you don't know me when you come in, so I can't see how she will ever know. And once you've had the baby, I'll just say…." Sybil stopped suddenly. Who knew what the situation would be then, in three months' time; she certainly didn't want to make any assumptions at this stage about her relationship with Tom. "Well, I'll worry about that nearer the time." She leant forward and gave Edie a little hug. "We'll bring you some paracetemol and a drink and then get some sleep."

Tom began to heat some milk in the kitchen and told Sybil where she could find the paracetemol. "You see what a great impression you've made?" he told her, smiling.

"Oh, her hormones are all over the place, I'm sure it doesn't reflect on me much at all. She doesn't want any change or anxiety, that's all."

"If you're sure….."

"Honestly, please stop worrying about it. The most important thing is that she gets through this pregnancy without having more things to worry about." Sybil was anxious not to dwell on the subject further. "So, what are you going to cook for me, then? Oh God, I haven't brought any wine, sorry. I just came straight here."

Tom leant forward and opened the fridge door, while continuing to stir the milk with his other hand.

"Your favourite wine, madam. And the glasses are down in that cupboard there. I'll have one too, please." Sybil poured the drinks while Tom went briefly in to Edie's room once again with the promised supplies.

"Do you like curry?" he asked as he returned to the kitchen. Sybil nodded.

"Thank God for that, because I popped out to buy all the ingredients and then realised that I didn't know if you did."

"I like any food" Sybil grinned. "Well, apart from olives, that's the only exception. The first time that I had one, I bit into it, thinking that it was a grape. It was a horrible shock and I've never been able to get past it."

"I don't like cheese" admitted Tom as he started to pull ingredients out of the fridge and cupboard. "I wish I did, because there's so much of it around and it always seems a bit unsociable when people offer you cheese and biscuits. I don't mind cooked cheese, on pizzas and lasagne and things like that, but I won't ever eat a cheese sandwich."

"I'll remember that," said Sybil with a mock solemn nod.

She leant against the kitchen archway with her wine, watching and admiring him as he confidently ground spices together, chopped and sliced the meat and vegetables, before sliding it all knowledgeably into a pan. "Do you cook much?" he asked

"I'm getting a bit better, I think. I do a lot of heating up though. But I've got a few dishes that are OK. I was terrible when I first went to university."

"Everyone's a terrible cook when they go to university. Right come on, we'll leave it for half an hour and it'll be ready.

As they sat down comfortably on the sofa, Tom leant forward and kissed her, slowly and gently. "There, I haven't had a chance to do that yet tonight with all my worrying about Edie." Sybil broke away briefly and smiled at him before pressing back into him and returning the kiss with equal fervour. Tom's arm snaked around her waist and he squeezed her gently towards him.

"I have to keep an eye on my curry" he murmured, "and you're distracting me, very, very badly" They sat like that for a few minutes before he gently extracted himself from her arms. "Sorry….I am going to have to stir that curry and if I don't stop kissing you, I'll be beyond caring about it." He got up, gave the pot a sniff and a stir, and then returned with the wine bottle.

"My Mam has booked her flight over for Christmas." he said, topping up her glass and setting the bottle on the small table in the corner of the room.

"Oh, that's great. Will your sister come too?" asked Sybil.

"No, she's going to have her first Christmas with her boyfriend's parents, apparently. That's quite a big thing; Mam's on the verge of buying her hat, I think." He grinned at the thought of his sibling's potential nuptials. "But Kieran's going to come down from Liverpool, so we'll be three out of four. And then Fiona and Niall are looking at coming over for New Year instead." He paused and took a sip of his wine. "Not that we will be doing anything of course, because Edie can't go out. But they'll go and explore London a bit in the day and we'll have some nice food and wine here, so it'll be OK. So, will you go up to Yorkshire for Christmas?"

Sybil nodded. "Usually, it's a big 10 day celebration, like it is for most people, I guess. Christmas, then lots of lazing around, visiting people and having friends over. Then, my parents always host a big ball on New Year's Eve." She looked at him with a challenging smile. "I know what you're thinking."

Tom raised his hands in the air innocently, "I'm not thinking anything. Except that you seem to go to balls like I go to the pub."

"I don't go to many anymore, thank goodness. But the fundraiser's always at the end of November and then New Years, so I guess they're like buses at this time of year. But because I'm the new girl at work, I've got to work in-between. Everyone else had booked their holiday by the time that I started. I'm off on Christmas Eve, but I have to drive back to London on Boxing Day evening, then go up again on New Year's Eve afternoon, we finish at lunchtime, I think."

"So what happens at this ball, then?"

"It's just a big party really. Years and years ago, it was called the Servants' Ball and it was when everyone came together in the house, upstairs and downstairs, as an appreciation. But there aren't many servants now, just a butler, cook and housekeeper."

Tom smiled and waved his hand around in a nonchalant fashion, "oh just the three servants, oh dear! How do you manage?...Hey, I'm only teasing you, Sybil, don't look so cross!"

"It's a big house" she muttered, "it needs people to look after it. But they just get people in to help for a party or event now. So my parents have lots of friends to stay and we eat and drink and dance, that's all."

"So how big exactly is it then? I presume these friends aren't sleeping on sofa beds?" Sybil giggled.

"No, there are a fair few bedrooms."

"How many exactly?"

"Well…" she paused and thought briefly, "Some aren't used as bedrooms now, like the old nursery and some store rooms and Edith's dark room from when she got into photography and…"

"Sybil," interrupted Tom. "Your extra rooms probably exceed the size of my Mam's entire house."

"Probably," she admitted.

"So, go on. How many rooms that could be bedrooms, then?"

"About eighty."

Tom gave a low whistle and then chuckled. My Mam would probably say "think of all that vacuuming and dusting."

"Well, they only get vacuumed and dusted when they are going to be used." She stopped and looked at the floor, feeling awkward about her family's wealth and advantage. Tom understood her discomfort and put his arm around her shoulders. He pulled her close to him and kissed her cheek gently. "It all sounds lovely, it's just different, that's all. Come on, let's eat this curry."

The meal was delicious, Tom was an accomplished cook and any awkwardness soon dissipated. Edie appeared en-route to the toilet at one point. "It smells lovely" she groaned, "I wish I was hungry." After assuring them that their chat and laughter were not disturbing her in any way "This baby's lying right on my bladder." she returned to her room.

Sybil helped to load the dishwasher and tidy up and they returned to the sofa with a second bottle of wine and soon had their arms wrapped around one another again, kissing more passionately. Sybil felt herself relaxing as Tom gently caressed her and he explored her neck and ears with soft butterfly kisses. Soon, he was lying carefully on top of her, his own excitement unavoidably noticeable against her pelvis and his hand began to cautiously explore under her shirt.

"Sorry!" exclaimed Edie as she emerged from her bedroom once again, her hand covering her eyes. Tom moved so quickly that he fell off Sybil and the sofa, sending a glass of wine flying across the carpet.

"Shit!" he shouted, jumping up and going into the kitchen for a cloth. Sybil started to giggle and sat up, hastily rearranging her clothes. As Tom rubbed at the wine stain furiously, Edie crept back through behind him, mouthing 'Sorry' at Sybil, who continued to laugh and blush simultaneously.

"I feel about 15 again" admitted Tom, when he sat back down, taking Sybil's hand and muttering "now, where we?"

"I'd hate to be a teenager again, wouldn't you?" asked Sybil as her arms wrapped around him and she brought him towards her for another kiss. "All those spots and self-hatred."

Tom looked up at her. "I don't believe that you ever had spots" he said smiling.

"I did! Every month, it was awful! And I was a bit tubby too – puppy fat apparently, it all just fell off me when I was about 17."

"No, I'm sorry, I don't believe that you weren't anything but beautiful…" he kissed her cheek "…and flawless…" he moved to her ear "…and alluring..." this time it was her neck. Sybil pushed his chest slightly so that he lifted his head and looked into her eyes. She gave a mock disapproving face,

"Honestly, if you think that all this flattery will get you anywhere, you can think again!" she laughed. Tom looked suddenly serious.

"I'm only joking" she whispered. "It's just a phrase."

Tom pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek again. "You know I'm not like that, don't you?" he said earnestly. Sybil gave a little nod to reassure him and smiled.

"I know you've had a shitty time with that Larry guy and I can tell that you're nervous, but I'm not going to try and push you into doing anything that you don't want to do." Sybil stroked his hair briefly before he continued. "I don't mean just today, but at any point, OK?...I mean, of course I would like to…." he looked slightly abashed and then grinned, "I mean, I am human and you are gorgeous, but I don't want you to think that I've got any kind of agenda or timetable in mind. As far as I am concerned, we can go as slowly as you want. I'm not going anywhere."

Sybil was aware of warm tears springing to her eyes, feeling overwhelmingly touched by his unexpected sentiment and consideration. She felt so safe and valued by him and he had just pushed aside any hesitation or anxiety that she retained. Not wanting him to know that she felt so emotional, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and nuzzled the side of his neck.

"Thank you" she whispered and he kissed her shoulder in return. They held each other tight in comfort for a few moments, neither feeling the need to speak, until a door opened slowly once again.

"Sorry!" whispered Edie.


	7. Chapter 7

Tom fiddled awkwardly with his shirt collar under the tuxedo as he rang Sybil's doorbell the following Saturday. He only occasionally had to wear suits of any kind and didn't think he'd worn a tux since his graduation ball. He didn't think that Edie had been successful with his bow tie at all, what on earth had possessed him to rent the real thing instead of a clip on one?

For a man so usually self-possessed, he was feeling surprisingly nervous about the evening ahead. Blessed with relatively good looks, intellect and charm, or so his mother said anyway, Tom could usually assimilate into any occasion. He had discussed national policy with Members of Parliament, economic issues with government advisors and been welcomed enthusiastically into the families of previous girlfriends. He had a deep down contempt for the aristocracy in principle, although felt that he had always been fair enough to judge individuals on their own merits, and loathed the way that it still held influence within certain aspects of the British way of life. However, he felt unprecedentedly anxious about meeting the Earl and Countess of Grantham and making a good impression.

He had fallen for Sybil in a big way and although he could usually concentrate his mind on any given task ahead, found himself thinking about her on a regular basis throughout each day. He greatly looked forward to seeing her, even if it was simply a hospital visit in which he had to pretend that he had no other connection to her, and wholeheartedly enjoyed her company when they were together. They had only had four dates in total and now he was meeting her entire family for the first time, not to mention her ex-boyfriend, surely it was to be expected that he might feel a slight lack of confidence? When he'd accepted this invitation, he hadn't even kissed her; the evening had sounded like an enjoyable challenge and one from which he could subsequently retreat. Now the stakes were higher. Cora had been delighted that her youngest daughter was bringing a date and despite Sybil's attempt to be vague about her connection to him, the whole family were now in no doubt that he was her beau and not simply a friend.

'I want them to believe that I'm good enough for her' he thought and that surprised him. He had never previously given any thought as to whether a girlfriend's family might consider him suitable for their daughter. He was confident in himself to believe that it was a matter important only for the couple themselves, but perhaps this was the first time he felt that there might be some doubt cast.

Sybil opened the door in her dressing gown, but her hair was pinned up at the back, with soft, wispy trails hanging down around her face.

"Hello! Come in…oh, your tie is not quite right, let me do it for you," She pulled him into the hallway and pushed him against a wall. With a mischievous grin, she kissed him on the lips and then began to expertly rearrange the tie.

"You look gorgeous" he said admiringly, stealing another kiss as she finished. She twirled around in her robe, "What do you think? It's the latest fashion, don't you know?!' He smiled at her with slight awe.

"So you've finally let me in," he joked and peeped his head through a door off the hallway, which led to her living room. "Nice pad"

"Go in and then through to the kitchen and get a drink if you like, I'm just going to put my dress on and finish off my makeup. The taxi will be here in ten minutes."

Tom wandered through the lounge, admiring its high ceilings which provided a feeling of generous space and through into the modern kitchen/diner. With its gleaming metallic appliances and smart beech wood floor and table, it looked as if it could appear in a lifestyle magazine. Opening the fridge, he saw with a smile that she'd bought bottles of his favoured beer and took one out. He found a bottle opener in a drawer and took a satisfied sip, walking over to the French doors and peering into the darkness outside to see if he could see any of the small garden that Sybil had previously mentioned. He had been quite happy to take the train and tube in his tuxedo, but Sybil had insisted on ordering a taxi. He supposed that the usual ten minute walk to Clapham Junction train station would be more difficult in high heels. He walked back into her lounge and peered at the numerous photos on shelves and the windowsill, trying to guess which might feature her sisters and her parents.

"Do I look OK?" Sybil's voice made him spin around and he stood with his mouth slightly agape for a few seconds, feeling unusually lost for words. She was wearing a long, purple dress, which clung perfectly to her curves. There were no sleeves and the shoulder straps folded softly downwards, crossing over her cleavage, which he couldn't help but notice was tantalisingly visible. The material glittered in places and he suspected that the jewels in her matching drop earrings and necklace probably cost more than he could earn in half a lifetime. She smiled shyly, "Will I do?"

Tom exhaled the air that he now realised he'd been holding while he admired her and stepped forward, taking her hand. "You look….." he couldn't think of an appropriate word "beautiful….more than that….just stunning….spectacular….I'm running out of adjectives because they don't come close….I might have to kiss you now, is that OK?" she nodded and broke into a happy smile. "And then I might continue to do so a lot over the course of the evening. Just so that you've been warned…." After taking her in his arms, he looked again at her necklace.

"I can see why you didn't want to go on the tube with that." Sybil smiled before he continued, "I'm not sure that it's a good idea to keep it in a flat in Clapham either, really."

"I don't" she replied, "I got it out of the bank yesterday lunchtime. Mind you, I did then have to leave it in my locker at work for the afternoon and then carried it home in a tatty old rucksack. I don't think anyone would have had a clue." The doorbell rang and she broke away to answer it, leaving Tom contemplate the vast differences between their lives.

* * *

They entered the function room at the Grosvenor Hotel hand in hand and Cora walked straight over to them in welcome and kissed each of them on the cheek.

"You must be Tom, we're so happy that you were able to come. Sybil darling, you look lovely. Now, grab a drink" she waved a waiter over "and I'll come and talk to you again later. Mary and Edith are bickering already, so please go and tell them to stop being so silly. Dad is around somewhere" she glanced around her, "oh you'll find him in a minute. Right, there are the Whiteheads, I must go and say hello. See you later, have fun!"

"You didn't tell me that your Mother's American" Tom said as they accepted a glass of champagne and walked around the edge of the room.

"Didn't I?" Sybil replied absentmindedly, looking across at the already assembled guests. "I forget sometimes, it's just who she is. I don't feel American at all, although I am half of course."

"Sybil!" cried another voice and a beautiful, dark haired young woman walked towards them. Tom recognised her from a photograph in Sybil's living room and guessed that she must be one of her sisters.

"This is my sister, Mary and this is Tom."

"Well…." Mary said slowly, her eyes staring at him intensively, "you're a bit of a surprise."

"Why's that?" asked Tom rather defensively. Mary gave a very brief smile.

"We don't know where Sybil found you, that's all and now here you are….joining us all."

"She didn't pick me up in the street, if that's what you're thinking." Tom didn't like the implication in her voice and felt his hackles rising.

"I didn't suggest that she did." Mary replied smoothly and turned to the friendly looking man who had come to join her. "Matthew, this is Tom. Sybil's….." the silence filled the air "date" she finished sharply.

Matthew leant forward and shook Tom's hand "Good to meet you" he said, standing back and sweeping his hair out of his eyes. "Sybil, you look fantastic."

"Yes" agreed Mary. "Larry Grey will be picking his eyeballs off the floor." She turned briefly back to Tom and smiled again, although he felt that her eyes betrayed another emotion. "That is why you're here, isn't it?...To help bolster the troops?"

"Stop it Mary" Sybil's voice cut through the tension. "Leave him alone. Tom's here because I wanted him to be. Just be nice, please. Now where's Edith?" Tom was happy to move on, although he warmed to Matthew who patted him on the shoulder in a friendly fashion as he passed "Talk to you later, Tom"

"Ignore her" said Sybil as she took his hand. "She's like that with anyone new, it's not personal." She was nodding and greeting people as she passed, friends of her parents he could only presume. "Hello, yes I'm loving my job, thank you…..so nice to see you again…how is your son doing at university?.….thank you…how are you both?" She works this room like a professional hostess, he thought, impressed.

"Sybil" queried the voice of a young well-spoken woman, who was seated on a bench at the side of the room. As Sybil turned and smiled at her, she rose and walked towards them, enveloping Sybil with a hug. As she broke away, the woman looked sulkily at her.

"Do you think cupcakes are out of fashion?"

Sybil gave a little laugh, "I don't know, I haven't really given it much thought….why?"

The woman sighed and then glanced at Tom. "Hello, I'm Edith. Sorry about this, but I just need to ask. You know I told you on the phone about my idea to start a little café in the shop?" Sybil nodded "Well, I thought I'd just start simply with teas, coffees, cakes and things like that and my friend, Ivy makes these fantastic cupcakes. So I was just telling Mary about it and she said 'Oh Edith, cupcakes are so 2010'."

Sybil shook her head, "she's just trying to wind you up Edith."

"For what it's worth," interrupted Tom "I'd eat any kind of cake if it tastes good and is priced right. I'm not sure that I'm your typical customer, though…"

"Thank you" Edith turned and smiled brightly at him and held out her hand to shake. "Tom, yes? If you're going to be on my side, then I'm starting to like you already. I need some support in this family."

"Sybil's told me that you're doing a brilliant job with the shop." he added.

"Well Sybil's my biggest fan."

"Nonsense" came a voice behind her and an older, kindly faced man came forward and kissed Edith on the cheek. "I'm your greatest fan….but Sybil does give me a run for my money sometimes." He also shook Tom's hand enthusiastically. "Hello Tom, I'm Anthony. Welcome to the usual Crawley conflict!"

"Dad!" cried Sybil and rushed forward to hug a man who was striding towards them. Shyly she took Tom's hand and introduced him. Her father gave a reserved smile and shook Tom's hand.

"Lord Grantham."

"Good to meet you, sir" replied Tom. He was determined not to use the expression ' Your Lordship', which he disapproved of in principle, but experience had taught him that 'sir' generally went down well with girlfriends' fathers. He wasn't sure that it was going to appear appropriate on this occasion, but he was determined not to back down. If Robert Crawley was put out by the phrase, he didn't give any indication, but his eyes seemed to bore into Tom as he spoke.

"So, Sybil tells me that you are a political journalist?"

"That's right"

"For which publication?"

"I'm freelance, but I've had pieces in The Guardian and The Independent, as well as a number of magazines and online journals."

"I see." He paused. "Well, you must excuse me as I understand we will be going in to eat in a moment. But I do hope that you enjoy your evening and I will see you all later." He nodded to everyone in the group and went to join Cora.

'He didn't look very impressed with my journalistic record' muttered Tom to Sybil.

"Well, of course. You're a socialist and going out with his youngest daughter. He's an Earl who has read the Times since he was about six and thinks that David Cameron's a bit left wing." She smiled at him reassuringly and squeezed his hand. "He'll talk to you more later and I promise you that he'll like you for who you are, he won't hold it against you." Tom raised an eyebrow in doubt and Sybil leant forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Sorry if it's all a bit daunting" she muttered. "They're all lovely really. Hopefully you can talk to Matthew and Anthony more after the meal, they're much more normal than my family."

At that moment, a bell rang and the Master of Ceremonies invited them all into the dining room to eat. Cora had seated her daughters on different tables in order to better socialise with her friends and acquaintances and Tom found himself seated on one side next to an elderly lady on her own, who introduced herself as Lady Margaret Elliott. The meal was delicious and accompanied by some very enjoyable wines and Tom greatly enjoyed himself. Lady Margaret was far more approachable than he had anticipated and she seemed genuinely interested in his career.

"So how do you know Lady Sybil?" she enquired and Tom had to supress a smile at the title.

"She's my sister's midwife" he admitted and briefly explained the situation.

"I think it's wonderful that she's gone into the profession and supporting all that Cora is doing here" she raised a heavily jewelled hand around the room. "One simply didn't talk about these things when I was young." Tom nodded politely before she continued softly "I lost two babies after I had my son."

"I'm sorry to hear that" he murmured and smiled gently. He could see she was hesitating as to whether to continue and he gave what he hoped was an encouraging expression.

"My mother told me to never mention it again you see…people like us just didn't….she said that I should be grateful for my son…which of course I was…..but one can never forget….I still dream about them." Without thinking about how inappropriate she might find it, Tom put his hand over hers. While she turned her head in surprise, she didn't pull hers away, but simply patted his in return.

"Lady Sybil is such an empathetic young lady and now it seems as if she has met her equal. I wish you both every happiness, my dear. Now would you be so kind as to pour me some more water?" Tom felt extraordinarily moved by her words and the sentiment behind it and sat quietly for a moment, before reaching out to his other side and putting his arm around Sybil's waist. She turned her head with a dazzling smile and leant forward to kiss him briefly.

"You look extremely handsome tonight, have I told you that?" she whispered and he felt as if his insides were floating as he smiled at her.

As the meal came to an end, people began to get up from their seats and mingle around the room. Sybil introduced Tom to some of her parents' friends and they had another friendly chat with Edith and Anthony. While Sybil went to the toilet, Tom sat back down at their table, when Cora came to join him.

"I hope you are enjoying yourself?" she asked, "it must be a little intimidating to meet us all at once, I know that you haven't known Sybil all that long."

"I'm glad to have the opportunity" he replied truthfully "you've done a wonderful job with the whole event, congratulations."

She smiled and tipped her head at him in gratitude. "You know" she continued "It raises awareness, maybe only within a very small section of society, but at least it's getting out there and encouraging people to acknowledge it." She sighed "the government is cutting funding for more research over the next three years, it's such a great shame."

"Well yes, the cuts are having a worrying affect in all sorts of areas." he replied.

"But if they could find out why it happens to so many women, then they could help prevent it and it would save so much money in the long run. It's so short sighted, it makes me mad. I've spoken to Piers Donaldson about it but he says that there's no spare money to be found."

"You've spoken to the Chancellor of the Exchequer about it personally?" spluttered Tom

"Well he's a friend of ours. In fact, he's Sybil's godfather, has she not told you that?"

"No" he said, shaking his head in amusement.

"Anyway, in your profession you'll be glad to know that being a friend does not sway government policy. I just wish I could get the message out there somehow, reach more people with it, get people to talk about how often this happens to women. Do you know that one in four women has a miscarriage, Tom? I'm sorry, I know that your sister is having a worrying pregnancy, I don't want to cause you any more anxiety; but if you look around this room, it will have happened to so many and yet we are encouraged just sweep it under the carpet and pretend it hasn't. If something so traumatic happened to so many men, there would be billions of pounds spent on trying to prevent it."

"Perhaps I could try to help?" Tom began thoughtfully, thinking once again of Lady Margaret and her sad story. "I mean, I could write an article….an unsolicited one…..I do that from time to time and send it out to all the middle and top market papers. I can't guarantee that they'll accept it, but sometimes they do and then they'll save it for a slow news day sometime in the future."

Cora touched his arm lightly and her face lit up. "Would you? Really Tom, that would be wonderful, I would be so grateful for your support. I mean, I am sure you are very busy, but if you have the time, then it would be just fantastic."

"I'll give it some thought, I promise. I'll talk to Sybil about it and maybe give you a call and get some more information?"

"That would be just wonderful, Tom, thank you." Cora leant forward and gave Tom a brief kiss on his cheek before taking her leave and moving to another table.

Sybil returned shortly afterwards "Are you chatting up my mother?" she laughed "Do I need to be jealous?"

"I only have eyes for you" he grinned "and so do half the men in this room I think, including that very creepy looking guy over there, by table 7, who keeps staring. Do you know him?"

Sybil turned her head and sighed quietly, while giving a polite smile and nod of her head to the man in question.

"Larry" she said quietly. "Will you come with me so we can get this over with?" Taking his hand, they stood up and made their way over. Larry whispered something to a young woman seated near him, who immediately stood up beside him and held his hand possessively. 'It's like two enemy defences closing in on one another' Tom thought.

"Hello Larry, how are you?" Sybil began with a great deal of effort and Tom noticed Larry's companion sizing her up competitively as she approached. "It's nice to see you again, and….?"

"This is my girlfriend, Laura. " replied Larry and the woman gave a tight lipped smile and nod. "Laura, this is Sybil Crawley, my…" he paused and glanced briefly at Tom before offering a brief and forced laugh "childhood sweetheart."

"Well we weren't exactly children, Larry. We were both old enough to know better, I think. Anyway, this is my boyfriend, Tom Branson." The men gave each other short handshakes and Sybil leant up to brush her cheek briefly and politely against Larry's.

Sybil wanted to keep the proceedings as limited as possible and asked after Larry's parents, subsequently leading Tom over to conduct another polite and somewhat strained conversation.

"Feeling better now that's over?" he asked "Shall I go and get us both a drink? I think we deserve one, don't you? Nobody threw a punch, no hair pulling, it was all very civilised."

Sybil kissed him again with gratitude and Tom made his way into the bar in an adjacent room. As he stood waiting to be served, Larry appeared at his side and nodded at him.

"So, what is it you do for a living, Tom?"

"I'm a political journalist."

Larry leant his head to one side and looked thoughtful.

"Tom Branson…mmmm…no, I don't think I recognise the name."

"You will do" he replied curtly.

"And how long have you and Sybil been an item?"

"A few weeks"

"Just weeks?"

"Long enough," he turned and looked Larry squarely in the eye. "Long enough to know how special she is and how well she deserves to be treated." Larry seemed to smirk slightly and Tom instinctively wanted to wipe it off his face with a punch. However, he hadn't done anything like that for years and besides, that certainly wasn't what Sybil deserved. He decided to change tactics and let his shoulders drop, while he rearranged his features into a friendlier stance.

"Anyway, it was all a long time ago, eh Larry. It's always a bit odd to bump into an ex when you're out." Larry was surprised and looked warily at him.

"Sure." There was a pause as Tom ordered drinks and glanced at Larry.

"Can I get you and Laura one?"

"There's no need" said Larry cautiously.

"No, but I'd like to and I think Sybil would like me to as well."

"Well…in that case, I'll have a pint of bitter and a vodka and coke, thank you." Tom nearly choked when the barman told him the price of four drinks, but he hoped that outwardly at least, his expression had remained constant.

"So, Larry…..what are you doing jobwise?"

"Well…." Larry paused for a moment. "I've had a kind of year off since uni. A bit of travelling, working with my old man, you know?" Tom nodded encouragingly and sipped his pint. "So….I've got a few options at the moment, you know…..just waiting to see a few people…."

"Yes, it's tough to make the right decision" suggested Tom

"Right…..yes….well…..to be honest, what I am hoping is to get into politics" he confided with a knowing smile.

"That's great!" Tom pretended to enthuse. "I mean, with your experience and contacts. That sounds ideal….just what the country needs." He nodded at the drinks he was holding and smiled. "Well, all the very best with that, I'd better go and give this to Sybil."

Larry paused before smiling gratefully and nodded back at Tom. "Thanks, Tom, I appreciate it."

"Prat" Tom muttered to himself as he walked away. He had suspected that Larry would have no sense of irony, but he clearly had no idea that Tom meant the complete opposite of the sentiment he had expressed. As far as Tom was concerned, the country was already run by a bunch of self-centred public school educated men, many of whom had no life experience outside of politics and yet they were thought fit to dictate to the lives of ordinary working people. Now the next generation was being groomed to succeed them and the cycle would continue.

"I've just had another chat with Larry" he told a surprised Sybil as he handed her a drink. "And I think I've got a great idea for another article."

* * *

Tom had to admit that the evening became one of the best nights out that he'd had in a long time. He chatted further with Anthony, had a friendly but heated football debate with Matthew and listened enthusiastically to Edith's plans to expand her business. Even Robert came over and politely asked Tom how he was enjoying himself and they managed to have a fairly amicable chat about architecture in central Dublin. Whenever Mary was in the vicinity, Tom managed to either sneak to the toilet or retreat to the dance floor. He sensed that she would welcome another opportunity to try to intimidate him and felt that avoidance was the best policy on this occasion. The band catered to every age group and Tom and Sybil attempted to waltz, jive and do the twist before it reached a more modern era. Larry gave him a friendly smile or nod each time he passed them, much to Sybil's amusement and Mary's startled intrigue.

"Has he put Larry under some kind of spell, darling? Clearly, he has hidden charms…you must let me know when he's prepared to share them with us all…."

"Have you enjoyed yourself, then?" asked Sybil as they sat heavily in adjacent chairs to recover from another energetic attempt on the dance floor. "My family haven't put you off me, then?"

Tom lifted her hand and kissed it. "I don't think anything could to be honest." Sybil blushed and smiled. "Honestly, I've had a fantastic time. I think Anthony and Matthew are great, Edith's good fun, your Mum's lovely, your Dad hasn't chased me out of the building with wild dogs….I think it's gone pretty well, don't you?"

"I note that you've omitted Mary from that list…."

"Ah….well…if you can't say something nice, then don't say it at all." He paused briefly and offered her a cheeky grin "although I don't think that's her motto." Sybil started to protest and he lifted up a hand in defence.

"I know, I know…..she's lovely when you get to know her. So you'll just have to invite me to meet them all again, won't you and then maybe we'll make friends".

"I'm glad you want to" said Sybil, looking softly at him and taking his hand.

"I told you before. I'm not going anywhere." They kissed gently and smiled at each other for a moment, feeling like a hurdle had been overcome.

"I want to ask you something…" Tom began again and Sybil's heart began to pound in anticipation. "Do you have any plans for the weekend after next?" Sybil thought for a moment and shook her head.

"Christmas shopping, probably. Oh and it's my work's Christmas meal out on the Friday night."

"Well that would work. You know I'm going to Brussels to cover a summit on the Wednesday of that week?" He had told Sybil about it on the phone during the week. The magazine editor for whom he'd worked on the three party conferences was pleased with what he'd provided and had asked him to support their main political features writer for three days.

"Well, it finishes with an early breakfast meeting on the Saturday, so I'll be all done by lunchtime. But they sent me the hotel reservation yesterday and it's booked until the Sunday." He looked hesitant for a moment before continuing. "Do you fancy getting the Eurostar over and meeting me?" He wondered if she might need a little more persuasion in order to agree. "I don't know if you've ever been to Brussels, but it's really beautiful. I know that Belgium has this reputation for being boring, but it's not at all. There's lots to see and great restaurants and there'll be a Christmas market and…." Sybil interrupted his sales pitch with a deep and passionate kiss on his lips.

"I'd love to" she said.

* * *

They sat in their taxi home, holding hands and appreciating the impressive displays of Christmas lights which adorned London's main streets. Tom had bid the entire Crawley family goodbye with fond hugs and handshakes and promises to visit Yorkshire in the very near future. Feeling satiated with good will and fine wine, he'd emptied his wallet into one of Cora's charity buckets towards the end and was briefly considering that he might have to pay for his family's Christmas on a credit card until he was paid for the summit assignment.

"I'll ask the driver to drop you off at yours first" murmured Sybil and he nodded his assent. He had to confess to himself that he was a little disappointed, but he was determined that she didn't see any indication of it. He had meant his words the previous weekend, he didn't want Sybil to feel under any pressure to sleep with him. He was longing to take her to bed, but he was prepared to wait until she was ready and felt sure that the anticipation would make it all the sweeter when it took place. With the exception of a highly unsatisfactory one-night stand, he hadn't slept with anyone since he had split up with Charlotte, over eighteen months ago. He'd done his fair share of sleeping around in his early twenties and had no desire to ever return to that lifestyle. He was keener on Sybil than anyone he could remember in a long time and felt that she was a prize worth waiting for.

Sybil looked out of the window again and avoided letting Tom see the indecision in her face. The evening had been so much more successful than she had hoped and anticipated and she felt almost overwhelmed with emotion about how well Tom had been welcomed. He had looked so handsome and she had butterflies in her stomach every time she looked at him. Each time she talked to him, he surprised and impressed her with his intelligence, empathy and consideration, and she felt more comfortable in his company with every meeting. She knew that she could talk to him about anything and he wouldn't judge her; he was by definition, a great friend as well as somebody who made her laugh and she couldn't now imagine her London life without him. So much of her wanted to invite him back to her flat, but her hesitation prevailed.

As the taxi came to a halt outside Tom's housing complex, he turned and gave her a long and passionate kiss. As they each moved their heads away, he looked at her and gave an unavoidably longing smile.

'Brussels" thought Sybil.


	8. Chapter 8

_I'm pleased that I've been able to get two chapters out this week as I've had so much going on (as a result, my house is dirty and my children somewhat neglected, but hey ho!) Your kind reviews do literally put a spring in my step, so thank you. I know from experience that it is not always easy or convenient to do so._

_NB: I have absolutely no idea how freelance journalists work, so Tom's explanation is entirely of my own imagination. My apologies for any inaccuracies._

* * *

Sybil placed her Kindle in her bag and yawned as the train pulled into Brussels Midi station. Her department's Christmas meal had gone on until late the evening prior and she hadn't got into bed until almost 1am. Six and a half hours later, she had been on a train up to central London again, ready to make her way to St. Pancras station for her Eurostar journey to meet Tom. It had been fun to spend some time socially with her colleagues for the first time, they'd gone to a vibrant Mexican restaurant where the tequila had flowed generously and tongues had subsequently loosened. Sybil had been quizzed mercilessly about her love life and her head had spun, trying to remember which details would be safe to reveal. Consequently, she had only shared that he was called Tom and that they had met when she had taken her car into his garage for repair. Sybil hated the thought of lying, but she knew that she needed to be cautious for the time being. However, she consoled herself by deciding that she was simply being selective with the facts, rather than making them up entirely.

Miss Dawson had complimented her on her performance over her first couple of months and Sybil glowed with her enthusiastic praise. It would have been very easy to have over indulged and be paying the price this morning, but Sybil wanted to fully appreciate every moment of her weekend with Tom and had ensured that she drank plenty of water throughout the evening. She had managed a short nap on the train and felt nervous anticipation mingled with excitement as she stepped down on to the platform and looked towards the concourse. It wasn't long before she saw him, standing to one side with a laptop bag and her heart soared as she waved to get his attention.

She was carrying a small rucksack for her one night stay and it fell off her shoulder as he enveloped her in a warm hug and kissed her.

"How was the party?" he asked as they moved away, hands entwined.

"Good fun, there'll be a few sore heads this morning, I think…..did your last meeting go well?"

"Yes, all fine, thanks. David and I wrote it all up in a nearby café and submitted it about half an hour ago, so perfect timing. He's already checked in to get the next train home, he's promised to take his kids swimming later, so didn't want to hang about."

"So what's the plan?"

"Are you hungry?"

Sybil nodded. "Ravenous. I only had a croissant at St Pancras, it barely hit the sides."

"Well as you've only got a small bag to carry, shall we go and have lunch somewhere and then go to the Christmas market afterwards?" They started to walk towards an exit when Tom stopped and glanced at her.

"There's just something I need to tell you about the hotel." he began hesitantly.

"Oh dear, is it a bit of a dive?"

"No, not at all, it's fine. It's just…..well, there's only one room."

Sybil glanced down at the floor in amusement at his obvious discomfort before Tom continued, "I don't want you to think I'm being devious or anything, but obviously they only booked one room for me. But it does have twin beds, so I don't know if you're OK with that…I mean, if you want we can ask if they have another room available…" he stopped as he saw Sybil turn and smile.

"It's fine, don't worry." Then she leant forward and whispered in his ear. "We can always push the beds together."

Tom's eyes slowly widened as he took in her meaning and a wide smile began to emerge.

"Oh right….er….OK….well now I want to take you there this very minute." He took her hand and grinned, "Come on then."

Sybil stepped backwards and laid her hands on her hips, one eyebrow raised.

"You promised me lunch and a Christmas market, Tom Branson and I will not be happy until I've done both!" He groaned with resignation and took her hand again.

"Come on then" and then muttered quietly "it's a good thing that it's a cold day."

They strolled to the Grand Place and then wandered along the narrow streets which surrounded it, perusing the restaurant menus until they were enticed in to one by a jovial waiter. The city was busy with enthusiastic tourists and there was a convivial atmosphere inside, with glasses of mulled wine being handed out and festive decorations adorning the ceiling and tables.

"I have to have moules and frites, I think" Sybil decided after contemplating the menu, 'I can't come here and not give it a go."

"Me too" decided Tom and they gave their orders to the waiter, each also requesting a traditional, local beer.

"So, did you enjoy doing the summit, would you like to do more of them?"

"Definitely, I need to do more things like this to get my name known and improve my portfolio. It's a reputable magazine so hopefully it'll lead to other things."

"What do you hope to do, then…..ultimately?"

"Well I'd like to get a contract with a national newspaper or magazine, so I'm not constantly scrabbling around for assignments and sending unsolicited pieces everywhere. They're usually for a fixed period of time, but that's how you best get yourself a solid reputation. Then when the contract's finished, you've got a much higher chance of it either being renewed or moving to another one. It's just getting that first contract that's the hard bit. Job opportunities don't come up very often and you've got to have plenty of published work under your belt to even get an interview. I reckon I'd possibly be in with a chance now, if something is advertised; these conferences and the summit have meant that I'm starting to get known within political circles now."

"What about the magazine that you've been working for this week, might they take you on?"

"They only have one political full timer, they just bring in people like me when they need to. David's got no plans to move, so I can't see any opportunities there really. I've just got to keep my eye out next year and hope something comes up."

Sybil looked thoughtful for a moment. "I might be able to help you with an interview, possibly. I haven't told you, but my godfather…."

"…is Piers Donaldson." Tom interrupted to her surprise. "Your mother mentioned it at the fundraiser. You've been keeping that very quiet. I wasn't going to ask you about it because I thought that maybe you didn't want me to know."

"No, no, it's not that, I just don't like name dropping, that's all. I sort of forget that he's the Chancellor now, I've known him all my life and although he's been an MP for ages, I still do a double take when I see him on TV."

"I'm not expecting you to try and pull any favours for me, you know…."

"I'd like to try and help you if I can. I mean, I've heard you say that it's not always what you know, but who you know. He's coming to Downton for New Year as usual, but…." Tom watched her levelly, not wanting to look as if he was pressing her in any way.

"You've got Fiona and Niall coming over, haven't you?"

Tom nodded "What were you going to suggest?"

"If you came up to Yorkshire with me on New Year's Eve, then you could meet Piers and maybe spend some time with him on New Year's Day before we came back in the evening." She paused hesitantly "I don't want to pull you away from your sister though, you don't see her very often."

"They're coming for four days, so I doubt she'd mind me being missing for 36 hours or so. She's coming to keep Edie company as much as anything and I told you, we won't be going out and doing anything on New Year's Eve. But I just want to make one thing very clear."

"What's that?" Sybil looked quite serious for a moment and Tom smiled, leaning forward to take her hand.

"I want to come because I'd like to spend New Year with you, rather than meet Piers Donaldson." He shook his head briefly, chastising himself at the way he had phrased it. "I mean I do want to meet him and I'm really, really grateful to you for offering to try and organise this, but I'm jumping at the chance to kiss you at midnight, rather than anything else."

Sybil smiled shyly. "Well, that makes me very happy. And it will make my Mum very happy too as she's already suggested that I invite you. But shall I speak to Piers? I mean, I doubt he'll want to do a big, heavy interview on New Year's Day, it's one of the few times he gets to relax from work a bit, but could you do a lighter profile of him or something?"

Tom nodded thoughtfully for a moment. "That's a possibility, yes."

"I mean, I'm not saying go really easy on him, as I know you're critical of his policy but maybe something about the man himself? If you spend a bit of time with him, chat to him about other things?"

"What do you mean, other things?" Tom sounded rather disbelieving.

Sybil raised an eyebrow, "He is a person, Tom. He can talk about other things."

"I'm sure he can, but not with me."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, why will he want to sit and chat to me about his family and interests and things like that on New Year's Day? He's never met me before."

"Because you're my boyfriend." Sybil gave him an earnest smile. "And I'm his goddaughter and I've never asked him for a favour before in my life and he's always said to ring if I need something. So now I want to." She watched Tom's continued hesitation. "He's a good man and he's a big public figure and I just thought that it might help you get your name out there again."

"It would. I am grateful, honestly. I just still think that it's the last thing he'll want to do on New Year's Day."

"Well, we'll see. Maybe you're right, but I can only ask, can't I? And if by chance he isn't keen, then you'll still get to meet him and he'll know your name and maybe he'll agree to an interview at another time."

"OK, then. See what he says and I'll check with Fiona that she won't be annoyed about me going off…..Thank you, Sybil. I do appreciate it."

They began to tuck into their food and Tom asked,

"So what about your career? I mean, I know you've only just begun, but do you think you'll be able to move up the ladder there?"

"There are definite opportunities, but in the long run, I'm starting to wonder if it'll be enough to stay a midwife."

"What do you mean?"

"I'd like to do what Miss Dawson is doing, making the big decisions and leading research within the field. Really making a difference. I mean it takes years and years of course, but while I love what I'm doing at the moment, I just think that I might end up getting frustrated after a few years."

"So what are your options?"

"Getting into medical school and training to be a doctor." Tom put his fork down and looked at her.

"Wow, that's quite a commitment after you've only just got a degree."

"I know…" Sybil paused as she considered the implications "You know, this is the first time that I've actually voiced it, I've just been thinking about it. It would be really tough and there's no guarantee that I'd get in anyway, but I'm just starting to think about it."

"I've got no doubt that you could do anything you wanted if you put your mind to it, but you're right, it would be a big undertaking."

"It's what my friend Gwen is doing….she decided half way through our nursing degree that she wanted to go on to medical school, so she did a couple of summer internships and just observed free of charge really, to give her a better chance of getting in. I thought I would be quite content with midwifery at the time, but watching her now makes me realise that I could do it, if I have the self-discipline."

"Would what you're doing now contribute to getting in, do you think?"

"Having some proper clinical experience? Yes, hopefully. I want to do commit to this job for at least two years, I think, so if I want to apply, then I need to start thinking about it this time next year, or maybe the year after." She shrugged and continued eating. "Maybe I'll change my mind, or decide that I can't face the extra studying."

"What would your parents think?"

"They'd support me….I think…..they want me to be happy and fulfilled. I don't think I'd like to ask them for any more financial help, so I'd have to get some loans, but I'd obviously have to talk to them about it all." She waved a hand around her head. "It's all just ideas at the moment, you're the first person I've told about it. I haven't even mentioned it to Gwen, because she'd start bringing me the application forms and putting pressure on me. I need to just think about it on my own terms.

Tom smiled, "I'm glad you can confide in me about things."

Sybil glanced at the table hesitantly for a moment, then looked up directly at him, wanting to be open and honest.

"I feel very comfortable talking to you about anything." Tom's heart swelled a little to hear her words and he placed his hand over hers, giving it a squeeze.

"Likewise" he said gently.

After lunch was over, they made their way to the large Christmas market, filled with wooden stalls selling all manner of festive treats and gifts. During a couple of leisurely hours, they each bought a couple of presents for family members and Sybil was thrilled to purchase some traditional decorations for her much anticipated first tree. While she loved and remained in awe of the 30 foot tree that they had in the hallway at her family home, she was highly excited at the thought of buying her own, much smaller version for the flat.

"Will you come with me to go and get it next weekend?" she asked Tom "help me to lug it home?"

"Sure, " he replied and gave a mock sigh. "So that's why you want me, is it? Well, I'm glad I'm good for something anyway…."

Sybil stood slowly onto her tiptoes and leant forward to whisper softly in his ear. "I'm sure you're very good at lots of other things…."

"Right! That's it!" exclaimed Tom, laughing and grabbing her hand. "I'm taking you to that hotel right now! You can't do this to me any more!"

Giggling with nervous anticipation, Sybil agreed to be led through the bustling streets until they reached the large, rather non-descript building in which they were staying. As if reading her thoughts, Tom shrugged his shoulders. "It's a business hotel. It's not romantic in the least, but it's got all the mod-cons."

He took the key from a smiling receptionist and they squeezed in the lift with several other people to the fourth floor. Stepping into their room, Sybil felt a sudden nervousness sweep through her and looked around, avoiding Tom's patient stare. He walked over and put his arms around her, hugging her tightly.

"We don't have to do anything right now, Sybil. I was only teasing you. Do you want a drink or something?" He coughed and raised himself to his full height, putting on his best English accent in an attempt to help her to relax.

"May I offer you something from the complimentary tea and coffee making facilities, madam? A shortbread biscuit perhaps?" Sybil smiled and shook her head. She placed her bag on the nearby armchair and shrugged off her coat, then walked back to him and put her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.

"I only want you" she murmured and leant into him, feeling less anxious now as he kissed her softly back.

"I just need to be really practical for a minute…" he said softly

"I'm on the pill" interrupted Sybil. He smiled.

"Uh, ok. Well, that's good to know….I didn't mean that actually, although now you mention it, I did buy some condoms."

"When?" asked Sybil looking at him with slight indignation. Tom gave a bashful half smile.

"Before I came over here..." he started to laugh at the expression on her face "I wasn't being presumptuous, I promise, but I thought that there was no harm in being prepared…you know, just in case…" Sybil giggled and swatted him with her hand before he continued.

"I actually meant that I want to move that cabinet in-between the beds and push them together."

There then followed a most unromantic few minutes, as Tom attempted to firstly pick up, then, with frustration, pull an inexplicably heavy chest of drawers across the room, fearing that his back might take the brunt and cancel any other plans that he had for the afternoon; while Sybil then had to clamber under one of the beds in order to unplug the lamp which had sat upon it.

Finally, after pushing the surprisingly mobile beds next to one another, they stood in front of one another, smiling with anticipation and from that point onwards, the only sounds to be heard were their soft sighs, moans and gasps of joyful satisfaction.

* * *

When Sybil later contemplated her time in Brussels, she felt that it would be fair to suggest that she had not really made it a priority to explore its famous sites and attractions. She and Tom didn't emerge from their hotel room until late on Sunday morning, after having summoned room service for dinner and drinks the evening prior. They each carried the satisfied air of someone who had taken an unexpectedly joyous discovery in life and couldn't quite believe that it had taken so long to reach it. Hand in hand, they retraced their steps from the previous day back to the Christmas market, purchased a couple of additional gift items, then warmed up in a café with coffee and hot chocolate before picking up sandwiches for their afternoon train back to London.

Parting at Clapham Junction station, they stood in an oblivious embrace as weary weekend travellers passed by and like conspirators in a silent movie, their eyes spoke to one another in previously unchartered territory. Sybil felt as if she was missing him before she had even turned the first corner away from the station and found herself musing on the number of hours before they planned to meet again on the Tuesday evening.

After having shaken herself out of her dreamlike stupor and unpacked the few things she had taken with her, it occurred to her that Sunday evening was possibly the best time to reach the Chancellor of the Exchequer before he began another long week in Westminster.

"Tom Branson?" mused Piers Donaldson thoughtfully after Sybil had explained her request. "I feel as if I know that name…..I can't place him though, perhaps I'll recognise him when I see him."

"So you wouldn't mind, even though it's New Year's Day? He's worried about bothering you during your time off."

"Not at all, I'm happy to talk to any boyfriend of yours, Sybil. I should think we'll be playing golf that day, I don't know if your Tom plays, but he's welcome to tag along." He paused for a moment, before teasing her. "Oh Sybil, are you really going out with a socialist? How is Robert bearing up?"

"Oh, with resigned stoicism, I think" she laughed. "Anyway, you're the one who always said that it's all a charade and that everyone gets on behind the scenes."

"Not everyone my dear, definitely not everyone, but you're right, I have been known to enjoy the company of a socialist or two on occasion….Now, this is a profile, rather than a formal interview as such, is that right?"

Sybil affirmed her assent. "It'll be relatively objective, but he might get a dig or two in about policy, I don't think he'll be able to help himself really…..he wouldn't want anyone to subsequently think that he's just sucking up to his girlfriend's godfather, but it won't be a hatchet job, I promise."

"Well as long as he doesn't comment on my dreadful dancing at the ball…" Piers chuckled slightly. "I'm looking forward to meeting him….and seeing you again Sybil, it's been far too long."

* * *

"Syb, you are sooooo loved up, it's so funny!" Gwen was giggling on Sybil's sofa the following Wednesday evening, holding a glass of wine, as her friend provided her with edited highlights about the weekend in Brussels.

"I'm not!" she protested while smiling broadly, "I'm just…..well, you know…he's just really, really nice and we're getting on brilliantly and he makes me happy, that's all!"

"And you're in love!"

"I didn't use that word, Gwen, don't twist it…."

"In lust then?"

"Definitely!" They both laughed and Sybil refilled their glasses. Gwen was living back with her parents in order to save some money while she was at medical school and enjoyed an occasional night in Sybil's spare room to escape her slightly claustrophobic surroundings. Sybil had cooked them both some pasta and they were now lounging around, appreciating a leisurely opportunity to catch up with each other's news.

"So does he have any nice friends that you could introduce me to?" asked Gwen grinning.

"I don't know to be honest, I haven't met any of them yet. Anyway, you're always telling me that you don't have time for a boyfriend!"

"I don't" Gwen replied, with a cheeky smile on her face, "but I wouldn't mind a good shag…."

"Gwen!"

"Oh come on Syb, you know that I've always been more relaxed about that kind of thing than you. I haven't got time to do all the wining and dining and going on nice weekends to Brussels, but you know….." she pulled a suggestive face at her friend "a bit of the other wouldn't go amiss."

Sybil laughed ""Well I'll check out the possibilities for you then, shall I?"

"Well firstly, I'd like to actually meet Tom. Why are you hiding him from me?"

"I'm not" Sybil protested. "I saw him last night and he does football training on a Wednesday." She'd gone round to his flat the previous evening, after he'd asked if she would come and help keep an increasingly bored Edie company. Sybil found that she warmed to Tom's sister more and more as they got to know one another; her shy patient was in reality, a witty and quite opinionated young woman and she found her company rewarding. There had been a unspoken agreement on both sides that Tom would return to Sybil's flat for the night, the arrival at which had led to a resumption of the previous weekend's activities in the bedroom, on the living room floor and most unexpectedly, during her shower in the morning.

"I'll text him" Sybil announced "and we'll sort something out."

**Gwen wants to meet you **she typed and within five minutes came his reply.

**Walking back from football. Shall I call in?**

A few minutes later, a tired looking Tom rang Sybil's doorbell and she enthusiastically let him in. Gwen leaned around the door frame into the hallway before Sybil could monopolise him and offered an introduction.

"Hi, I'm Tom. I've heard a lot about you. Sorry, I'm a bit sweaty, but I just wanted to say hello." he replied apologetically.

"Do you want to have a shower?" asked Sybil and her cheeks suddenly filled with colour. Tom smiled at her knowingly and they stood frozen for a few moments, each recalling their earlier enjoyable experience in the bathroom.

"Hello!" called Gwen, raising her hand in the air and waving it around "Still here!"

"I'll get a towel" muttered Sybil and Tom turned to her friend with an embarrassed smile.

"So, are you enjoying medical school?" he asked, wanting to divert the conversation.

"Yeah, it's great. Really hard work, but very rewarding. I'm sure I'll get sick of it at times, but if I work hard and can get through the exams, I know it's going to be worth it in the long run."

"What are you going to specialise in?"

"Well I don't have to choose yet, but probably oncology. It's what I started to specialise in during the last year of my nursing degree and where I did my internships. There are so many new treatments and developments, I think it's going to be a really interesting area over the years." She gave Tom a slightly apologetic look. "I don't really do babies, like Sybil...mind you, I think she should become a doctor, I keep telling her, she'll get bored after a few years."

"What will I get bored with?" Sybil asked as she returned, handing Tom a towel.

"Midwifery. All that taking urine samples and blood pressures….."

"….there's much more to my job than that" Sybil protested.

"I know, but…..well, you already know what I think…..it's a big decision, but you should definitely consider it."

"I am" admitted Sybil, but put her hand out to silence Gwen's inevitable enthusiastic response. "Just thinking, that's all. I'm not going to seriously consider it for at least another year, but I am giving it some thought."

"What do you think, Tom?" Gwen asked

"Well it's entirely up to Sybil, I wouldn't want to try and influence her either way because as you say, it's a huge step to take. But I'd support her if she wants to do it."

Sybil glanced at him. Whether or not he had realised, his words gave the first indication that he expected to still be part of her life in the considerable future. She felt slightly dizzy at the thought and her train of thought came to a sudden halt.

"Anyway, I'll go and have a quick shower, then come and have a drink with you both" continued Tom, making his way to the bathroom. Gwen gave Sybil a broad smile and a wink to indicate that she approved and they chatted happily until he returned. Tom stayed another hour or so, discussing Gwen's Irish heritage, the fundraiser evening and his football team's current poor performance before he decided that he should go home and get some sleep.

"He's lovely, Syb" admitted Gwen after Sybil returned from seeing him out of the door. "I can see why you're so smitten….actually it's almost a bit nauseating" she joked and Sybil stuck out her tongue in jest.

Gwen leant forward with a cheeky grin "Now….about meeting his friends….."


	9. Chapter 9

_This story keeps growing! I originally intended to only gloss over Christmas, concentrating instead on the New Year's Eve ball at Downton. However, I decided that we needed to meet the rest of the Branson family, if only briefly and therefore, this chapter arose. It's a little light and fluffy in places, but you know, they're falling in love (even if they don't realise that yet!)_

_Disclaimer: No children were really neglected or starved during the writing of this story!_

* * *

It had been Sybil's original intention to drive to Yorkshire on Saturday 22nd December; however Tom had asked her if she would consider delaying by 24 hours and meet his mother and brother when they first arrived in London. Cora had been very disappointed when her daughter first informed her of the revised plans, however Sybil pointed out that Tom had met all of her family and that opportunities to meet his would be infrequent.

So Sybil found herself doing a double take when the door to Tom and Edie's flat was opened that evening by a taller and slightly skinnier version of Tom, who offered a very similar, confident smile to the one she'd first seen on Tom in the hospital lift many weeks ago.

"Hello" he said cheerfully and leant forward to kiss her on the cheek. "I'm Kieran….presume you're Sybil?...I hope so anyway, because if you're not, then I'm being very forward with the pizza lady….mind you, then I'd be quite happy because that would mean that you're not my brother's girlfriend after all and I could.…."

"Oh shut the fuck up, Kieran please…." muttered Tom as he came into the hall and kissed Sybil who was still stunned into silence. "You see, this is why he doesn't have any luck with women…."

Kieran grinned amiably at her "we're not actually having pizza, by the way" and followed the two into the living room. An attractive looking woman in her fifties, with dyed auburn hair and her sons' bright blue eyes came forward with a welcoming smile.

"Hello Sybil, I'm Elaine, I'm so pleased to meet you." Sybil started to hold out her hand politely, but Elaine reached forward and kissed her on the cheek, then gave her a brief hug. Feeling shy, Sybil hovered in the middle of the room, giving Edie a little wave and tucking her hair anxiously behind her ear.

"Sit down" Edie called, patting the sofa next to her and Sybil did so, gratefully accepting the glass of wine that Tom passed to her. She was usually fairly confident around people that she didn't know but it had occurred to her earlier that she had never been in this situation previously. Her only boyfriend had been the son of her parents' friends, there had been no need for awkward introductions. Apart from that, her only other romantic experience had been a cinema trip and a couple of snogs with a boy in Downton village, whose sister she'd known since nursery and whose mother used to drive her home from Brownies.

Elaine Branson, on the other hand, had lost count of the number of similar introductions she'd had from her four children over the years. Between them, they'd had chequered love lives and only one of them was showing signs of settling down. She hadn't been thrilled by the news of Edie's pregnancy, although she wasn't so naïve as to think that they were all living the lives of nuns and monks. However, she was a great believer in doing your best with the cards you were dealt and she was very proud of the way that her eldest son and youngest daughter were handling the situation. She had once worried that Tom might find it hard to commit to anyone; he had drifted from girl to girl for quite some time. Even when he had moved in with Charlotte, she knew that he would never marry her; it was clear to her that he was coasting in a relationship of convenience, although Charlotte herself hadn't realised, poor love. However, he had shown true devotion and commitment to his sister in her time of need, even though Elaine would ideally prefer to have her daughter home under her own roof. Over the last few weeks, Tom had sounded unusually enthusiastic about this latest girlfriend, Sybil and Elaine's curiosity had been raised, particularly as she received equally flattering reports from her daughter. Edie's current confinement in the flat meant that she often rang her mother on a daily basis, so Elaine felt as if she could probably quote every word that Sybil had ever uttered in Edie's presence.

"So you're off to stay with your family for a few days, tomorrow?" she asked kindly.

"Yes, until Boxing Day evening." Sybil explained. "I have to be back at work the following day.

"And will there be many of you there?"

"Everyone really. My parents, both of my grandmothers, one of them has come over from America, my two sisters and then each of their boyfriends will be there at some point."

"And Tom says that your parents always have a big party on New Year's Eve?"

"That's right….yes, um…so I'm looking forward to taking Tom now that Fiona has kindly agreed to hold the fort here and keep Edie company…"

"It must be quite a big house…..?" Elaine pressed. Tom had been deliberately vague about the details of this party and she knew that there was something he was hiding from her.

"Well….um….yes, I suppose it is really….." Sybil looked awkwardly at the floor.

"Mam, stop being so nosy." Tom interrupted "I'll tell you all about it afterwards" He wasn't going to keep the details of Sybil's family a secret indefinitely, but he didn't want her returning to Dublin and sharing with all her friends that her eldest son was going to an Earl's mansion for New Year and meeting the British Chancellor of the Exchequer.

"Will you celebrate on New Year's Eve?" asked Sybil politely.

"Yes, I'll go round to my sister's house" Elaine replied. "Just a few drinks and a bite to eat, nothing special, but we usually have good fun."

"And you, Kieran?"

"I'm going to a party, but I don't expect it'll be as fancy as yours" he laughed. "Beer and a sausage roll if I'm lucky. Good thing I'm a man of simple tastes"

"Simple being the appropriate word" teased Tom and ruffled his brother's hair as he passed by him to return to the kitchen. He was cooking roast lamb with potatoes dauphinoise and beans, while Edie had made a pavlova earlier in the day. It was taking a little longer than he'd hoped; he'd had no financial option but to work in the garage on the last Saturday before Christmas This had meant that his mother had to get the train into London from Gatwick airport, rather than him pick her up as would have been his preference. However, Kieran had met her at Victoria station and they'd travelled down to Clapham together. By the time that he'd returned home from work and greeted his family, had a shower to clean up and started the meal, Sybil had been almost on her way. However, as a result, the wine flowed freely while they waited and by the time they all sat down to eat, everyone was feeling more relaxed with one another and chatting fairly animatedly.

Kieran was helping Tom clear up in the kitchen and Edie had been ordered to return to the sofa when Elaine beckoned Sybil into Tom's bedroom.

"Can I ask you" she half whispered as she closed the door behind them "as her midwife, rather than as Tom's girlfriend, what the chances are of this baby being born safely now?"

"Much, much better than they were when I first met her" assured Sybil, putting her hand on Elaine's arm as she spoke. "I wouldn't like to give you any absolute guarantees, because this pregnancy has had so much drama and worry, but she's 32 weeks on Christmas Day and by and large, babies survive after that."

Elaine's features relaxed a little "but it's still dangerous?"

"Ideally, we'd like her to be at 37 weeks in order to be completely reassured, but plenty of babies are born before then and don't have any long term side effects. Every day that he stays in there gives him a better chance of not having any medical problems. She hasn't had a bleed for two months now, this bed rest seems to have worked. I mean, it's only ever a last resort because usually there are far more advantages for the mother being active throughout pregnancy, but this isn't a normal situation."

"She says that you've been marvellous…"

"That's very kind, she's had great support from all the team, I think but I'm glad that I've been around to provide more reassurance." Sybil gave a little laugh "I mean, we don't usually spend this much time with our patients outside of the hospital, these have been rather unusual circumstances really."

"Well people meet in stranger situations sometimes and you and Tom seem very…" Elaine paused as she tried to find the appropriate words "…relaxed with one another. He seems very happy and content with his life and with you." Sybil smiled bashfully "As his mother, it's good to see."

"Thank you. He…" Sybil hesitated slightly "he makes me very happy too."

Sybil had offered Tom keys to her flat while she was in Yorkshire, suggesting that it might make his flat less cramped for the four of them. She had also mentioned that Kieran was welcome to stay in the spare room, although he assured her that he was quite content on the sofa bed in Tom and Edie's living room, while Elaine would take Tom's room.

"I'm going to go back with Sybil then" Tom announced when everything was cleared away and they were all starting to yawn. Elaine kissed her goodbye and wished her a Happy Christmas. "I hope you'll come to Dublin sometime" she said earnestly and Sybil promised that she hoped to do so. Kieran gave her a long and enthusiastic hug until Tom cleared his throat "Right, that's enough. Get off her."

As Sybil went to get her coat and scarf from the hallway, Elaine grabbed Tom's arm and pulled him back.

"I hope you're being careful" she said pointedly.

"Mam! I'm nearly thirty!" Tom protested

"I don't care how old you are, I've already got one unplanned grandchild on the way. I want the rest of you to do it properly."

"Mam, you need to worry about Kieran more than me, I'm telling you"

"Aye and he'll have the same speech from me before I go." She smiled indulgently at her oldest child. "She's a lovely girl, Tom. I'm really pleased." He nodded and grinned before she continued "Hang on to her, son"

"I intend to" was his honest reply.

* * *

Sybil left London almost an hour and a half later than she had planned the following morning. She would have to tell her parents that she had overslept. In reality, she simply couldn't keep her hands off Tom at the moment. She smiled as she remembered him mentioning the word 'insatiable' during the night. Mind you, he had been kissing her stomach at the time, so he didn't seem to have any complaints.

"Ring me later?" he had asked as she left. "Let me know that you got there safely." Sybil promised and gave him a final, passionate kiss goodbye.

The journey was pleasantly stress free, the usual Christmas Eve exodus from London had been divided over several days this year, as so many people had chosen not to work on the Monday. She arrived at Downton Abbey shortly after lunch and was enthusiastically welcomed by her family, who immediately all staked a claim to her time over the next few days. Mary asked her to travel into Ripon with her for some final gift purchases, but Sybil didn't want to spend any more time in the car, probably circling a car park for half an hour trying to find a space on the penultimate shopping day before Christmas. So she persuaded her to walk into Downton village instead with the family's labrador and "…support our local community, Mary! Come on, we'll go and eat one of Ivy's famous cupcakes in Edith's shop en-route"

On their return, she spent some time mediating between her two grandmothers, who delighted in scoring points off one another during the infrequent opportunities in which they were together. They were, however, united in their curiosity about meeting Tom about whom they had heard so much from other family members.

"Is he related to the Bransons of Cork, Sybil?"

"I have no idea, Granny. As far as I know, all his family are in and around Dublin, but he might have relatives down there. Are you trying to tie him to some ancient family, by any chance? I don't think it's going to work somehow."

"Give me something else to work with then dear"

"How about he works hard, loves his family and makes me happy?" Sybil replied smiling.

"Oh to be so young and naïve….."

Her American grandmother, Martha interrupted "Sybil darling, he sounds almost too good to be true. No man can do all three of those things at the same time, they can't multitask like we can. You know that Violet wants to chisel him into the Crawley mould, so you take care to let him be his own man and stand up to them all!"

"He is his own man, nobody is going to mould him into anything. He's got plenty of opinions of his own, which I have no doubt he will be enthusiastic to share with you. Now, be nice! Both of you!"

She left them to go into her bedroom with some wrapping paper so that she could put her final gifts under the tree that evening. She had already sent Tom a text to let him know that she had arrived safely, but rang him and told him about what she had been doing since.

"And what about you, how have you spent your day?" she asked, lounging on her childhood bed and idly imagining what it would be like to have Tom in it with her.

"Mam and I had a bit of a walk on the common and then Kieran came with me to the supermarket for all the final bits and pieces. We're giving Mam a complete year off the shopping and cooking…we bumped into your friend Gwen there."

"Oh yes?"

"Yeah, she was getting stuff for her Mam. She made quite an impression on Kieran."

"Really? What happened?" Sybil sat up, her interest fully gained.

"Nothing really, but they just didn't stop talking to each other. I ended up going round the supermarket on my own, paying for it all, bagging it up…. after he said he'd help me… and then coming back to get him. They were still standing by the fruit and veg, talking and laughing with one another."

"Ooooh" mused Sybil "it's a shame he lives so far away really."

"Oh she's way out of his league"

"You're mean about him" Sybil teased "he's nice looking and good fun to talk to…"

"Oh yes?" Tom retaliated in jest.

"Well he looks like you, so obviously I think he's nice looking…"

"OK, carry on….."

"Well I can see how they would get on, but he lives in Liverpool and she lives in London and has a ridiculous studying schedule, so it's not going to happen, but you know…if they're both still free and single in a few years' time…."

"What will we be doing then?"

Sybil froze. She had no idea how he wanted her to respond to the question, whether he was hoping for some kind of verbal commitment, or if he had been unnerved by her speaking, even indirectly about the future. To be honest, she didn't even know what she thought herself. She only ever imagined a time after Edie's baby was born and she could explain the situation to Miss Dawson, beyond that she was enjoying the present and not contemplating beyond.

"I don't know" she said honestly.

He was silent for a moment and she wished that she could see the expression on his face. "I don't know either" he eventually replied. "But I am really happy with you, Sybil. I think about you a lot when I'm not with you and I have a great time whenever we're together."

"Well I feel the same way" she admitted, "so that's good."

"I guess we'll just see what happens and where we go…."

"And enjoy it, wherever it takes us."

"Wise words, Miss Crawley. I'm going to go now before one of us gets too profound or soppy, but I miss you OK and I can't wait for New Year."

Sybil lay back on her bed afterwards, holding her phone in her hand and just smiled.

* * *

Christmas came and went in its usual frantic way. The Crawleys observed their ancient tradition of having their main meal on Christmas Eve, then eating buffet food on the 25th. This was primarily so that their permanent cook, Mrs Patmore did not have to come in, but as Cora always mentioned also "so that I don't have to burn the turkey."

Despite their wealth, they never bought extravagant presents for one another and the girls had always been encouraged to choose thoughtfully for family members. Everyone stopped to watch when Sybil opened her gift from Tom. She had wanted to keep it in her room to open independently, but Mary had seen her taking it upstairs and insisted that it went under the tree with all of the others. The tag on it said '_what I've learned about you'_ which had everyone oohing and ahhing before Sybil had even pulled off the paper. Inside was a wicker hamper filled with things that Tom knew that she enjoyed – a packet of custard cream biscuits, salt and vinegar crisps, her favourite wine, chocolates and perfume, a CD called 'Songs from the Musicals', a calendar with labradors on it, thermal bed socks – he said that her feet were like blocks of ice, a fridge magnet from Brussels and a memoir by someone that Sybil had never heard of, who had trained to be a doctor in her 30s, after having been a nurse for many years.

"What a wonderful present" cried Cora and Sybil's eyes welled up with emotion. She'd bought him a new bag for his laptop, a book commemorating 50 years of James Bond films and a Liverpool Football Club mug, all of which now seemed rather insignificant in comparison.

"Perhaps he isn't too good to be true, after all!" laughed Martha

"I loved your present" Sybil thanked Tom later on the phone. "You went to so much trouble, I was really touched by it."

"Well, I think you're worth it" he added softly "and I loved my presents too. My old bag was looking quite tatty…."

"I know, that's why I got it…."

"…and I'll enjoy my book if I can ever get it off Kieran and I've already had a cup of tea in my mug, so I'm very happy with all of them, thank you."

"Have you had a good day?"

"Yes, it's been good fun. We skyped Fiona which was hilarious because Niall's Gran had never done it before and was completely confused. You could hear her saying 'but how did they get in there?' We've played charades which we haven't done since we were kids…"

"….we did that too, we always do on Christmas Day…."

"and watched a film without arguing which is always a bonus, although Kieran went walkabout at some point during it."

"What do you mean?"

"I think he's finding it a bit hard to all be all stuck in a small flat together. He went out late afternoon yesterday, saying that he wanted to go for a walk, but he came back mid-evening, stinking of beer so I think he went to a pub somewhere. He was very vague about it, didn't seem to want to tell me where he'd gone. Then he just went out for about a couple of hours this afternoon and said he'd been walking round the common."

"Oh well, only another day and a bit to go…."

"Yeah, I'll miss them when they've gone but it's a bit intense, I guess, in a short space of time. But….."

"But what?"

"Then you'll be home again, so I won't get too lonely."

"I've got to go to work for the first two days…."

"I've got work to do too, I need to speak to your mother and start that article."

"You can ring her while I'm at work. She thinks you're the best thing since sliced bread after seeing that hamper…."

"And what do you think…...?"

"Don't you start getting full of yourself…" she teased "…I think you should meet me from the station after work on Thursday."

"Right, and what are we going to do then?"

"I'm sure I can think of something…."


	10. Chapter 10

_A couple of people have asked how many chapters this story will now be – it's grown to 14 plus an epilogue, so still a little while to go!_

_NB: I have Tom and Sybil travelling to Ripon station, because I would imagine that the branch line to Downton would have been closed in the 1960s under the Beeching proposals._

* * *

Tom met Sybil at Kings Cross station in the early afternoon of New Year's Eve, after she had finished her shorter than usual shift at the hospital. It made sense to take the train rather than travel south to Clapham in order to pick up one of their cars, especially as the party was beginning at 7pm.

"I enjoyed meeting Fiona and Niall last night" Sybil began after they had settled in their seats and the train pulled slowly away. "They're really lovely."

"Yes, well they were very complimentary about you too. Apparently, you make me a far nicer person…."

"Were you not a very nice person before, then?" Sybil started laughing and Tom stuck out his lower lip in jest.

"I thought I was, but it seems my sister thought otherwise. Charming, isn't it?"

"She's much quieter than the rest of you."

"I know, she always was. I think she just never managed to get a word in edgeways and it carried on that way. She wouldn't say boo to a goose when she was little, just used to follow me and Kieran around everywhere. Edie was louder than her, even when she couldn't talk. Mam thinks that Fiona got overlooked a bit, with two boisterous boys and Edie being the baby of the family. Anyway, she's come out of herself a lot more in the last couple of years. I think Dad's death knocked the stuffing out of her for a while, but she seems to be doing really well in her job and has the love of a good man, I guess."

"He's certainly devoted to her"

"Good, so he should be…he was in the year below me at school actually, he always was a nice guy."

"And they don't seem to mind not having a wild night out on New Year's Eve…"

"Well they knew the score when they arranged to come over. They have a stack of DVDs, lots of Marks and Spencers' nibbles, bubbly for them, some fancy juice drink for Edie, so they'll be alright." Tom put his arm around Sybil and kissed the top of her head, " I'd have been quite happy to share it all with them, but I'm glad you invited me instead."

Sybil smiled and squeezed his knee. "So Mary is going to pick us up in Ripon, apparently." She glanced sideways at Tom's neutral expression. "I hope you have a better impression of her after this trip."

"So do I. I want to like her, but she wasn't very friendly last time."

"She was trying to suss you out, but she was very impressed with the effort you put into my Christmas present, so I think she's warming to you. She never seems to like anyone when she first meets them."

"Why? That seems quite a destructive way to be, in my opinion."

"She doesn't like to be disappointed by anyone, I think. She wants people to prove their worth and then, when they do, she's really loyal and supportive."

"What about Matthew, did she not like him either at first?"

"No, she was horrible about him! I remember her coming home and saying that she'd met this third cousin and that he was bound to want to attach himself to our family now that he knew her. Mum and Dad invited him up for a weekend and we all loved him, because…well, you've met him, he's just friendly and enthusiastic to everyone. And I think he was slightly in awe of Mary, but not really interested in her romantically and then that became a challenge for her, I think."

"So then she pursued him, is that what happened?"

"Sort of, although very subtly. Mary wouldn't do anything that might make it look as if she was after a man; she sort of chipped away into his heart…."

"…until he was worn into submission?" joked Tom, although he was yet to understand what Matthew saw in her.

Sybil smiled "Something like that, but they seem very happy now. He definitely brings out her better side."

"Christ, what's her worse side like?...Sorry!" Tom lifted his hands in apology and changed the subject. "So tell me about Anthony, he's a lot older than Edith, isn't he? Not that it matters of course…."

"He's over 20 years older; he's only 5 years younger than Dad. We've known him for years, his family used to have a big house in the area, but they lost a lot of money when he was a child and they moved to a house in the village. He was married and then his wife died of cancer, about 12 years ago. She was only 30, I believe."

"Oh God, that's awful…."

"I know and they had two little boys, so he's brought them up on his own and done a wonderful job. One's at university now and the other is in the sixth form. They'll probably be there tonight, I should think. I don't think he had much time for relationships while they were growing up, but he did an evening class with Edith about two years ago and it all started from there."

"An evening class in what?"

"Furniture restoring, I think. Edith was always doing different classes, I can't keep up with them. She never stuck at anything for long, but they just hit it off and he's helped channel her into doing the shop and settle down a bit.

"And your parents don't mind the age gap?"

"I think they were a bit anxious at first, but they've seen how happy he makes her, so I guess that's reassured them. I do often think that it must be a bit odd for Dad though….you know, he sometimes had a drink with Anthony in the village and now he's…..well you know what…with his daughter."

"I very much doubt that your Dad dwells on that thought."

"No, you're probably right. Anyway, you're also going to meet my two grandmothers, which will be like being between a rock and a hard place, but don't be intimidated by either of them, they'll respect you far more for it."

"Wow, you're really selling this to me…." he smiled. "I am a man of words, I can hold my own."

"You haven't met them" muttered Sybil.

* * *

"Holy shit….." murmured Tom as Mary's car turned into the drive and he viewed the Abbey's magnificent profile at the rise of the hill.

"Impressive, isn't it?" said Mary, her voice filled with satisfaction.

"You know, " began Sybil "I probably take my family's situation for granted at times, but I will never, ever tire of this view. I love London and my flat and everything, but when I turn that corner and see the house, I just know that I'm home."

Tom couldn't stop looking up at all the spires and windows as he took his bag out of the car, feeling in awe of its history and beauty. An older man, dressed in a tuxedo came down the steps to greet them.

"Carson!" greeted Sybil and kissed him on the cheek. "This is my boyfriend, Tom Branson."

"Mr Branson" nodded the man respectfully. "May I take your bag?"

"No, I've got it, you're fine," Tom said awkwardly. He didn't want a man older than his father would be, carrying his things.

"He wants to, that's his job" hissed Sybil as they walked up the steps behind him.

"Is he the butler?" asked Tom, feeling confused. He had mistaken him for an early dressed party guest, who was simply offering to help. Sybil nodded. "But you kissed him?"

"I've known him all my life, I always kiss him when I see him" she whispered.

They entered the magnificent hallway where a middle aged Scottish woman came forward to greet them.

"Lady Sybil" she said warmly and also accepted a small kiss on the cheek. "And you must be Mr Branson. How do you do?" Tom shook the proffered hand.

"I'm Mrs Hughes, the housekeeper here. We're all a bit busy as you can imagine with so many people arriving and getting everything ready. There will be some tea served in the drawing room at 5 o'clock. Lady Sybil, are you happy to take your bag to your room? Mr Branson is in the Tulip Room."

"Of course, I'll let you get on. Do you know where my parents are?"

"Your mother is downstairs, trying to help Mrs Patmore and your father is in the library with some of the guests. Do you want me to let them know you're here?"

"No, that's fine. We'll see them later, thank you." Sybil turned her head to her sister.

"Thank you for the lift Mary" she kicked Tom gently on the ankle.

"Er, yes…thanks Mary, much appreciated."

Mary tipped her head slightly and smiled coolly "You're very welcome. I'll let you both settle in while I go and find Matthew. Don't forget Sybil…the Tulip Room!" and she gave a little laugh as she walked away.

"What's so funny about the Tulip Room?" asked Tom as they started to climb the imposing staircase.

"I forgot to tell you, but we're in separate rooms."

"Uh…OK."

"My parents believe that we can do what we want when we're in our own flats and houses, but while we are in their home, we live by their rules. And that means no sleeping with boyfriends."

"Fair enough, I suppose, it's their house."

"But I sort of let it slip to Mary on the phone that we've been…..well you know….."

"No, I don't know. What did you tell her?" asked Tom mischievously

"Well, I told her that Brussels marked a change in our relationship and that well…" she began to whisper now "that we've been quite active in that department ever since…" Tom smirked before she continued "…and now she keeps teasing me about not being able to stay away from you.

"Are you going to sneak in on me in the middle of the night and seduce me?"

"Granny is about two doors down from you, so probably not. I think it's her who insists that this rule continues. Mum's a bit more liberal."

"Shame" said Tom grinning. He couldn't believe the size of the room he was staying in, it was almost as big as his flat. And he'd never slept in a four poster bed before, he was tempted to take a photograph.

"You're going to have to tell me what to do and when to wear what, Sybil. I feel a bit out of my depth here."

"Well we don't have to do anything now, it's just tea in the drawing room. We'll have that and say hello to anyone who's here and then come up and get changed for the party."

"Isn't it a bit of a drag sometimes to only have tea at certain times? Don't you ever just want to go and boil a kettle and get yourself one?"

"It's not always like this. We would usually do just what you say, go down to the kitchen and get one. But today isn't a normal day and Mrs Patmore won't thank us for going downstairs and getting in her way. I shouldn't think she's very pleased about Mum being down there, her and Mum's idea of help differ somewhat."

* * *

Tea had been a fairly painless affair. Tom was introduced to various friends of the family and happily reacquainted himself with Matthew while he observed that Mary smiled and laughed with those she knew well. Sybil's American grandmother seemed quite a character, he was intrigued to meet the Dowager Countess who hadn't yet arrived from her own home. Edith entered late, flustered from closing up the shop and having to evict her last two customers who had shown no sign of leaving.

After going up to change, he led Sybil cheerfully down the staircase once more and gratefully accepted a glass of something bubbly from an expressionless waiter standing at the bottom. He thought that Sybil once again outshone every woman in the room, although he acknowledged that he was somewhat biased.

"How many of these fancy dresses do you have?" he'd asked as she had glided into his room in a calf length gown of shimmering silver, hair pinned up and diamonds dripping from her ears and neck.

"It's not fancy" she laughed and put her finger to her lips "shhhhh it's from Zara actually, don't tell anyone. You just think that all my clothes are more expensive than they really are."

Downstairs, Sybil took his hand and brought him forward to meet her grandmother. She had told him on the train that despite his opposition to aristocratic titles, it would make his life a lot easier if he would break his own rule on this one occasion.

"Lady Grantham" he obliged and shook her outstretched hand, sitting down next to her as Sybil indicated. He politely answered her questions about his job and how he was enjoying Downton.

"It's really beautiful, I'm finding the whole building quite breathtaking to be honest." She smiled her approval before he continued. "It must have been hard for you to leave when your husband passed away."

"Yes, well, Robert didn't throw me out immediately" she replied somewhat curtly. "This should be a family home as well as a house and he had a young family when he inherited. So it was right that I stepped back and made my home elsewhere…..However, I do enjoy coming back to stay now and again." She looked him directly in the eye.

"I believe that tonight I am staying just down the corridor from your room, Mr Branson."

"Oh, call me Tom please. Yes, Sybil mentioned that."

"Then I should let you know that I am a very light sleeper. I wake at the slightest sound."

The corners of Tom's mouth twitched and he nodded at her, "Point taken". Then, he could have sworn that he caught sight of the faint glimmer of a smile as she turned her head and greeted an incoming guest.

* * *

"And how's my favourite goddaughter?" came a familiar sounding voice from behind him and as Tom turned his neck, he saw Piers Donaldson walking towards them with his wife. After kissing Sybil on both cheeks, he turned to Tom and wagged his finger in the air.

"A-ha, I do recognise you! Aren't you the chap who wrong footed my Junior Minister over the borrowing rate figures a couple of months ago?"

"Er, yes. Sorry about that" Tom replied awkwardly, although impressed that it had been remembered.

"Well you were just doing your job and my man hadn't done his properly. I gave him a complete bollocking when he came back to the Treasury. Anyway, good to meet you properly, Tom" and he provided a hearty handshake, while introducing his wife.

"So do you play golf then? Going to give us a challenge tomorrow?"

"I'm afraid not, I've played it about twice, I think. I wouldn't want to embarrass myself. I'll just walk round with you, if that's OK?"

"No problem at all. It'll be good to have some younger company out on the course, eh Robert?"

Tom hadn't seen Sybil's father walking up behind him and he held out his hand in a friendly manner. "Nice to see you again, sir."

Robert accepted it, but simply nodded solemnly and then immediately glanced at Sybil, before turning his head again to Piers. "I believe that Matthew might join us this time as well."

"Excellent! came the enthusiastic response. "Well, I will see you two lovely people over the course of the evening. Enjoy yourselves!"

Robert nodded at them "Excuse me" he said politely and walked towards Cora who was waving him over to another corner of the room.

"So how does your family know Piers?" Tom asked " He's completely different in real life, he seems so dour when he's at press conferences and on the TV."

"Well, the country's finances are a heavy load to carry, I guess, regardless of whether or not you think he's doing it correctly. He's just very good at switching off when he's away from it all, I think that's the only way he can cope with it. Dad went to school with him. They've been great friends ever since"

"Eton, by any chance?"

"Harrow actually."

"Ah….."

"It's not all nepotism and buggery, you know Tom. People do actually form meaningful relationships there and get a good level of education."

"I don't even want to consider the first part of that sentence…."

The party was soon in full flow, with a delicious buffet laid out and a jazz band performing. Guests began to dance in the main ballroom and out in the hallway and Sybil dragged first Tom and then a reluctant Edith up to join her. After chatting amiably to Anthony for a while and being introduced to his two sons, Tom excused himself and went to the toilet. As he was walking back, Robert appeared from the opposite end of the corridor and Tom smiled at his approach.

"Can I have a word please Tom?"

Surprised but not feeling unduly concerned, Tom nodded and followed him through a nearby door, which housed Robert's study. As soon as he closed the door behind him, Robert swung round to face him.

"So, I understand that you're interviewing Piers tomorrow?"

"Well, it's not an interview as such, just a chat really, so that I can do a profile piece."

"So you're using Sybil in order to further your career?"

"No!" Tom was horrified by the allegation, "It was actually all her idea, I wouldn't have ever suggested it."

"But you're happy to take advantage of her position and benefit from it?"

"I don't think that's at all fair" Tom protested, trying to speak calmly despite feeling inwardly furious by Robert's implication. "I had absolutely no idea who she was when I first met her and didn't know your family's connection to him until she brought it up. As I said, I wouldn't dream of asking her to pull favours for me, she's suggested this out of the goodness of her own heart." He paused for a moment. "I'm here because I want to spend New Year with Sybil, not because I see something in it for me professionally."

"And what are your intentions towards her?"

Tom gave a brief, incredulous laugh "I'm sorry, have I walked into the pages of a Victorian novel by mistake?" Robert's expression remained impassive and Tom realised that the question had been entirely serious.

"Are you asking me if I'm intending to marry her?"

"Well, are you?"

"I don't know" Robert gave a quiet snort of satisfaction and Tom found himself clenching his fists as he tried to keep his voice level.

"With the greatest of respect, Lord Grantham, I have known her for less than three months. Can you in all honesty tell me that you were certain you would marry Cora within 12 weeks of meeting her?"

Robert glanced at the floor silently and posed his next words carefully, "Sybil has been badly hurt in the past…."

"I know that, sir. I am fully aware that Larry Grey behaved appallingly and I can understand how protective you feel towards her."

"I want you to promise me that you won't break her heart."

"I can't do that…"

Robert's face started to turn red with fury before Tom continued more calmly "…no more than she can promise at this stage, not to break mine." He paused momentarily while he chose his next words.

"We haven't made any declarations to each other, although I can tell you that I feel more for her than any other woman I've known in recent years. I'd like to think that she feels the same way, but I don't actually know for certain. I can't make promises for the future without having that conversation with her first." He took a deep breath and glanced at Robert, whose eyes were watching him intently. "What I can promise you though, is that whatever happens, I will treat Sybil with honesty and respect, just as I hope she will with me. I give you my word on that."

Robert paused and considered Tom's declaration. "Very well. I shall have to hope that what you say is true…..However, if I find that you have gone behind my daughter's back in any way…."

"You won't" Tom interrupted sharply.

"Then we'll leave it at that for the time being." Without apologies, Robert strode past him, opened the door and walked out along the corridor to join the other guests. Tom stood where he was momentarily, trying to let the whole indignant episode sink in, before making his way back. Sybil saw him as he entered the hallway and almost skipped over, smiling,

"Were you just with Dad?" she asked looking expectant.

"Um, yes."

"What was it about?"

"Oh, nothing significant…He was asking me about the golf tomorrow….I think he thought I might have a secretly low handicap that I was keeping from them."

'I'm lying to her already' he thought with reluctance. 'I've only just walked out of the room and the first thing I've said to her is a fabrication.' However, he knew that Sybil would be furious if she discovered the truth and the last thing he wanted was for her to confront her father about their conversation and be the cause of further dispute.

The unexpected allegations left a sour taste in his mouth for the remainder of the evening, but he tried his best to push it to one side and at least outwardly return to his previously enthusiastic appearance. He drank a little more than he had intended and chatted to others less than he would previously have expected, however he was attentive to Sybil and ensured that she could have no doubts about his desire to spend the evening with her. Shortly before midnight, the guests gathered outside of the Abbey's front door, freshly poured glasses of champagne in hands and watched fireworks light the night sky over the gardens. Tom wrapped his arms around Sybil, not an entirely easy feat while holding a full glass, and pressed his lips amorously to hers.

"Happy New Year, gorgeous girl" he whispered and smiled to himself as she put her hands on his backside and pulled him close.

"I'm so happy I met you" she replied and he placed his forehead on hers while looking questioningly into her eyes.

"Did you make a wish?" he asked.

"Of course"

"Are you going to tell me what it was?"

"Definitely not, then it won't come true!" she offered a coy smile and continued "but you featured heavily..."

* * *

A combination of emotional exhaustion and an excessive amount of alcohol meant that Tom slept soundly and had forgotten to set his alarm for his excursion to the golf course. He dreamt that he was lying on the stern of a boat, floating away from the shore and that Sybil was calling to him. Eventually she climbed up a ladder and appeared next to him, stroking his head and kissing his face. Her hand caressed his chest and he rolled into her with desire, leading her to explore further down his body until he….

"WHAT? Sybil….Jesus!" he shouted, sitting bolt upright in bed, his head pounding. Sybil was sitting on her haunches beside him, grinning suggestively.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked, still torn between reality and fantasy.

"What do you think I'm doing?" she laughed and started to push him back down on his back.

"Your grandmother!" he hissed, feeling more than slightly panicked that Violet or even worse, Robert might stride in at any moment and carry him off the premises.

"Relax, I've just seen her go down to breakfast. Nobody is going to check up on us. They'll all be going off for golf in about 40 minutes, so you need to get moving…..no, no, don't sit up again….plenty of time, this won't take long….you'll still have time for a quick fry up before you go, just relax….."

Feeling a lot perkier after two paracetemol, a pint of water and Sybil's personal hangover cure, Tom went downstairs and was greeted enthusiastically by the other participants before they all headed off to the local golf course. Matthew fell into line with him, asking how he'd enjoyed the evening and admitted that he had only recently started playing himself. "I've found it's quite a good way to get in Robert's good books, so if you want a tip…." he suggested.

"I personally am with Mark Twain on this one" admitted Tom, "a good walk ruined, but never mind, I'll happily talk to you if you don't mind. I don't want to monopolise Piers all day."

Matthew was good company and Tom found himself laughing and chatting quite easily, despite noticing Robert staring at him broodingly on frequent occasions. Piers called him over after the first couple of holes and was surprisingly open about the stresses of his job and the ways he found to recuperate. Questions were posed on both sides and Tom got a good impression of the Chancellor away from his desk. He couldn't help but ask some probing questions about the spending cuts and Piers fielded these with ease, blaming the previous government but putting together a reasonable defence for many of the decisions he'd made. They bantered back and forth and Piers acknowledged that Tom made some good points for his side of the argument. He was clearly used to this type of questioning and began many sentences with either 'this is off the record, Tom" or "you're free to quote me on this." pausing while Tom scribbled hastily in his notebook. Tom hadn't expected to warm to the man quite as much, although he was fully aware that they would spare each other no mercies if they met at a press conference in the future.

After the final hole, they all strolled towards the clubhouse and Piers stepped back to walk alongside Tom.

"I understand that Robert gave you a bit of a hard time last night?" he said kindly.

"Sort of" admitted Tom, not sure how much Sybil's father might have shared.

"Don't think too badly of him. He loves his girls and would do anything to protect them."

"I can understand that, I'm just sorry that he thinks so badly of me."

"He's seen his family taken advantage of before; for their money, titles and position. And he's seen Sybil hurt in the past. I mean, every parent worries for their children, but I've only got boys and I think a man probably feels additionally protective towards daughters." Tom nodded before Piers continued,

"Look, I've made it clear to him that this whole interview or profile or whatever you want to call it, was Sybil's idea. It was obvious to me from how enthusiastic she was on the phone, that it had come from her and not you. We all know that a connection or two can sometimes help, but I don't see you as being a gold digger, either financially or professionally."

"Thank you, I appreciate that."

"And I realise that I'm slightly more detached from it, but I can see how Sybil is glowing at the moment. Now part of that may well be down to her job and new found independence, but I think much of it is probably because of you. So as her godfather, rather than as her biological father, I say just bide your time and he'll come round. Once he can see how much you care for each other, I'm sure he'll welcome you just like he does with Matthew."

After a rejuvenating drink in the bar, the group headed back to Downton Abbey where a full roast dinner was served for the forty or so guests who had stayed the night. Edith offered to drive Sybil and Tom back to Ripon station and agreed to drop another couple off in a town en-route. As family and friends gathered in the hallway to say goodbye, Tom walked forward to shake Robert's reluctant hand.

"Goodbye, I'll no doubt see you again soon" he said with as much positivity as he could muster. Robert nodded his head and leant forward so that only Tom could hear.

"As Sybil's father, I will be watching you very closely. Do you understand?"

Tom stood straight, looked directly into his eyes and nodded. "As her father, I would expect nothing less."


	11. Chapter 11

The usual January apathy passed Sybil and Tom by this year, each still wrapped up in their enthusiastic exploration of the other's mind and body. They settled into a kind of routine, seeing each other two or three times a week, but continuing with their independent lives. Tom still worked at the garage at for at least half a day on Saturday and continued with his football training and matches; although he found the motivation to raise himself from Sybil's bed on a cold Sunday morning increasingly difficult to find. Sybil came to cheer him on occasionally from the touchline and was warmly received by his team mates and friends in the pub afterwards. She kept in regular contact with Anna and Gwen, started going for an occasional after work drink with her colleagues and when she could find the energy and inclination, did a Zumba class on a Monday evening.

Edie grew larger and more uncomfortable by the day, her boredom giving way to irritation and occasional emotional irrationality. Tom felt progressively more claustrophobic in the flat with her as she vented her frustrations, while her nocturnal wanderings as the baby performed his acrobatics, woke and exhausted him. Nevertheless, they felt a growing confidence that the baby might now arrive safely and Edie tentatively ordered a few items from the internet, which she stored unwrapped under her bed.

The profile of Piers Donaldson was bought by a relatively recent online journal and was well received, leading to a couple of further commissions. Somebody from the Treasury tweeted 'Interesting piece about Piers on the Westminster Echo – well written, Tom Branson'. He wondered if Robert had been made aware of its publication and whether his opinion was in any way altered from his New Year allegations. Tom knew that he had been in London, attending a House of Lords debate and had taken Sybil out for dinner one night after work, however there had been no suggestion from either side that he accompany them. He hoped that there had been a desire for some father-daughter bonding, rather than any deliberate wish to exclude him.

Sybil invited Anna and John over to dinner one Saturday night so that she could introduce them to Tom. She was not one to exclude friends from communal gatherings on the basis that they were not part of a couple and so rang Gwen to ask if she would like to join them. Although Anna was a friend from school and she had met Gwen at university, the two women had met on several occasions and enjoyed one another's company.

"I'd love to Syb, but I'm away that weekend" replied Gwen regretfully.

"Oh, that's nice, where are you going?"

There was a brief pause on the line. "Um…just going to stay with a friend."

Sybil was momentarily surprised. Like many young women who had spent long periods of time in each other's company, she and Gwen knew details of the other's friends and acquaintances, even if they may not have met them personally. It was unlike Gwen not to be more forthcoming in sharing details of who she was going to see.

"Oh right…..so….where does your friend live?"

Another pause punctuated the conversation. "Liverpool"

"Oh, I didn't realise that you knew anyone in Liverpool…." Sybil suddenly fell silent, a growing grain of suspicion tearing through her consciousness. "Gwen….?" she asked tentatively

"It's Kieran, alright?" her friend snapped down the line.

"Wha,…er…..Tom's brother, Kieran?" Despite her initial speculation, Sybil was still momentarily astonished by the news.

"I met him with Tom just before Christmas, in the supermarket. I thought you knew that?"

"I did, but I'm still quite astounded that you agreed to visit him on the basis of half an hour in Tesco"

Gwen sighed "I didn't just see him in Tesco, I saw him every day after that, until he left."

"But when did you do that…..oh…..right!" Sybil remembered Tom's description of Kieran's frequent disappearances during his stay. "Wow, well, I see…well that's great!"

"Don't start getting all excited, Syb" Gwen warned "I knew you would be like this, that's why I hadn't told you."

"Be like what?" Sybil said with indignation.

"Imagining some great romance, dreaming up double dates and matching wedding dresses…"

"I'm not!" protested Sybil

"You will, so just stop right there. This is not like you and Tom, ok? Nothing's changed. I still don't have time for a big romance and I don't want to be bound in some kind of exclusive arrangement, particularly with somebody halfway across the country."

"But you're going halfway across the county to see him, so you must like him!"

"He's good looking, we had a laugh over Christmas and I've not met anyone else down here who I fancy. Look…to be brutally honest about it Syb, I've got the proverbial itch and he's quite happy to scratch it for me."

Sybil gave a brief giggle, feeling a little awkward by Gwen's forthright attitude. "So, you haven't…you know….yet?"

"What, shagged him in my parents' house? Of course not! And even I draw the line at doing it in the middle of Clapham Common on Christmas Day. But that's why I'm going, so I'll give you all the gruesome details when I get back."

"Well I'm not sure that I really want to hear them all, to be honest…."

"Bit too close to home?" Gwen started laughing.

"Am I allowed to tell Tom?"

"If you must. But I don't want him getting all defensive and protective of his little brother's feelings. It's a friends with benefits thing, ok? It works both ways."

* * *

"I wonder how they're getting on?" mused Sybil as she peered at her lasagne through the oven door. It was one of her set five dishes that she could manage from scratch and even though Anna had probably been served it several times before, Tom hadn't. He was such a good cook that she felt rather feeble in comparison, although he had offered to teach her a few culinary tricks.

"I don't want to think about it actually" sighed Tom as he started to lay the table.

"Why? Don't you think it's quite funny?"

"No. I think it'll just end up causing trouble, to be honest."

"How?"

He sighed "I just don't believe that they are both quite as mercenary about it as they suggest. One of them will like the other one a little bit more and it's just going to get messy."

"Well it's not as if they're going to be bumping into each other all the time, is it?"

"No, but what if we…" Tom hesitated, wanting to choose his words carefully and not make her feel in any way under pressure to consider a potentially unwelcome declaration.

"If we, what?" Sybil turned to him, intrigued and feeling an element of nervous anticipation.

"Well, if we have a party of some kind in the future…."

"What kind of party…?" Sybil was daring him to say more.

He paused, tried briefly to summon up the nerve to say 'wedding' and failed. "A birthday party for example…I'm 30 in May, don't forget. I don't want to think that I can't invite them both because they're not talking to each other, or spend the evening consoling one of them because the other one is avoiding them."

Sybil nodded solemnly "You said 'we'"

"Pardon?"

"You said 'we might have a party'. Your 30th will be your party, not ours."

"Did I? Um….well it was just a turn of phrase, I guess. We….as in you or me." He avoided her gaze as he spoke, moving mats and condiments around the table, as he felt the heat of her stare on his head. He genuinely had no idea whether she would feel ecstatic or bewildered by a suggestion that they might one day get married and he simply wasn't confident enough about her feelings to want to raise it, even in jest. It wasn't a prospect that he had seriously considered until Robert had made his allegations on New Year's Eve and led him to confront the possibility. He presumed and hoped that she wouldn't feel entirely horrified by such a suggestion, given how much she appeared to care for him. However, surely there were unofficial timeframes for these types of situations and he felt certain that they hadn't reached an appropriate one as yet.

The doorbell rang and he looked up. Sybil was leaning against a work surface, still watching him with an unreadable expression on her face. She blinked suddenly and turned to the kitchen door.

"Right" she said, sounding hesitant and then moved forward to welcome Anna and John.

The evening was a great success, Tom warmed immensely to the couple and after their initial polite introductions, conversation flowed without any awkward hesitation. Anna had attended the same private school in York as Sybil, although her family were from a far more modest background in comparison. She had always possessed an artistic streak and had trained as a graphic designer at a local college. John was an army veteran, who had served in Afghanistan with Anna's brother. After shelling damaged his leg beyond full repair, he had retired and retrained to become a History teacher. A summer visit to Anna's Yorkshire home had led to their relationship, Anna's relocation to London and their subsequent engagement.

"So….come on Anna, tell me…..what was Sybil like at school?" Tom asked teasingly as Sybil shook her head in mock horror.

Anna smiled and picked up her wine glass while she mused over a response. "Well…she was always very kind and giving, that goes without saying, but she had a pretty sharp temper occasionally in those days…"

"You don't say…." smiled Tom as he turned to Sybil and squeezed her hand.

She offered him a shamed expression and then admitted to Anna "I was really horrible to Tom when I first met him. Well….not the very first time in the hospital, but when I bumped into him afterwards. I thought Edie was his wife and that he was chatting me up and then I just had a go at him in the garage when I took my car in for repair."

"Actually…" Tom began and folded his arms with an air of satisfaction, "you've never fully explained to me why you let rip like that…."

Sybil shook her head with embarrassment, but laughed lightly. "Haven't you forgiven me yet?"

"Of course I have, but I still want to know why…."

"Come on, Sybil…." Anna joined in.

"Well, I was annoyed at myself for not knowing that Edie was your sister and felt a bit stupid in that card shop….and well, oh I don't know….then I was just so surprised to see you in the garage and I….." she shrugged and laughed "well, I suppose I fancied you a bit….oh stop it!"

Tom was nodding solemnly at her. "Ah, I thought so…" he acknowledged in jest. "Well, I can't blame you, I suppose…it's only natural…."

"You are SO full of yourself at times….."

Anna and John stayed amicably chatting until after midnight before reluctantly taking their leave, with promises of a return invitation in the near future. Tom helped Sybil clear up and stack the dishwasher, any earlier awkwardness between them now eradicated. As they finished, he poured them each another small glass of wine and fiddled with her iPad until the sound of Van Morrison's Moondance filled the room.

"Come on, dance with me" he reached an arm out towards her and she happily joined him. They held hands and he twirled her around, as they cautiously circled the table and laughed, filled with the exuberance of alcohol and mutual desire. As the music drew to an close, he pulled her towards him and leant in for a lingering kiss, which she returned with equal fervour.

'I love him' she thought.

* * *

A few days later, Sybil arranged to meet a curious but slightly reluctant Tom in central London in order to fulfil his part of their long ago agreed bargain. She had purchased tickets for the new adaptation of 'West Side Story' which had recently opened to rave reviews. His expression remained impassive whenever she glanced at him during the performance, but she noticed his foot tapping at one point and drew this to his attention during the interval.

"It's quite catchy in places" he admitted "but they still put in songs when they could do with a bit more plot"

Sybil shook her head with frustration "It's got a great plot!" she cried "just wait until the second half…"

He smiled, "I do know it's based on Romeo and Juliet you know….something tells me that it's not going to end at all well…."

As they exited the theatre, to their surprise soft flakes of snow were falling.

"I didn't think it was going to come this far south" said Sybil as she wrapped her arm around Tom's waist and snuggled into him.

"No" he agreed "I think they've been taken by surprise. I doubt it will settle though."

They crossed Waterloo bridge to the station and quickly boarded a train to Clapham. The snowfall seemed to be getting heavier and their usual 15 minute journey was doubled as the train stopped inexplicably between stations. Tom started whistling while they waited and Sybil smiled with satisfaction.

"You're whistling The Jet Song'. He grinned and pulled her into him happily.

As they alighted at Clapham, there was already approximately an inch of snow on the ground.

"The trains are going to be awful in the morning" mused Sybil " haven't you got to go into central London too?"

Tom nodded "not too early though….I'll go back to the flat when you leave for work, see Edie and do an hour or so on the laptop before I go. Hopefully it will have sorted itself out by then. You might want to leave a bit earlier than normal, just in case."

There was something rather magical about huddling together as they trudged through a snowstorm, although Tom had neither a hat nor a hood on his coat, so was fairly soaked through by the time they reached Sybil's flat. She found him a towel and made some hot drinks, then they sat closely together on the sofa with the curtains open, watching the increasing depth of snow land on top of the fence outside.

Tom's lips gently brushed her ear after she had put her empty mug on a nearby table and she felt her body immediately respond to his touch, as always.

"Come on, take me to bed Miss Crawley…." he murmured suggestively, "you never know, we might get snowed in for the day…."

Sybil had no idea what time it was when she heard Tom's phone. She instinctively thought that it was his alarm ringing, but as his arm reached out from under the duvet and attempted to curtail the sound, realisation struck her. Gently, she nudged his leg with her own, as they lay entwined and cocooned in the warmth.

"Tom, your phone's ringing…."

There was a brief pause, before he started to sit up, clawing his way out of the bedclothes and squinting at the digital clock by her side of the bed.

"It's just gone four…who is it?….shit….Edie, are you OK?"

Sybil lifted herself from her pillow and pushed the duvet under her bare shoulders, tucking her hair behind her ears as she watched him intently.

"OK…don't panic…I'm coming." Tom looked at her anxiously "Hang on, let me tell Sybil..."

He put his hand over the phone and his eyes widened with apprehension.

"She says her waters have broken all over the bed and she thinks she's definitely in labour."


	12. Chapter 12

_I wanted this chapter to be realistic, without being graphic, but I apologise if it offers a bit too much detail for some people (it's possible that I've got a bit blasé about childbirth after having gone through it twice!) It is, after all, the reason for my story having the name it does. I hope you are still enjoying reading this as much as I continue to love writing it. (Tentative plans for a sequel underway…what do you think?) _

_(Downton Lover – you don't have an account so I can't PM you, but thank you so, so much for all your kind words of encouragement!)_

_One other thing – we in the UK are supposed to be metric nowadays, but there are some things which stay in old imperial measurements. Don't ask me why, but it's cm for childbirth and I've never heard anyone use anything but inches for snow, while babies weights are always given in pounds and ounces – we are a confused nation!_

* * *

Sybil held out her hand and mouthed 'let me talk to her'.

"Edie, it's Sybil. Don't get stressed. How much water was there, are we talking a few drops or a bucketful?"

Edie sounded very young all of a sudden and she could hear the apprehension in her voice.

"There's lots, Sybil. I woke up and felt it a bit, then I got up and it just keeps coming out every time I move."

"Are you in any pain, or have any tightenings in your stomach?"

"Yes…..both. Every few minutes. It really hurts, Sybil!"

"Well, it certainly sounds as if he's on his way. Stay calm…I know that's easier said than done, but I'll come down with Tom and he'll take you to hospital. We'll be there in a few minutes, OK?"

"But it's still too early!" Edie wailed, the panic in her voice now clearly audible.

"It's only a month, Edie" Sybil reassured "You're past 35 weeks now, none of us thought you were going to get that far, did we, so don't worry. He'll be ok."

"And I haven't done my ante-natal classes yet…."

Sybil smiled "Well, you won't be the first person to give birth before you get a chance to do them. It's alright, the midwives will talk you all through it. Right, we're coming now."

Tom was already starting to hurriedly gather his clothes and Sybil couldn't help but watch indulgently as he hopped awkwardly around the room, trying to get his trousers on as quickly as possible.

"Calm down a bit, Tom." she said in what she hoped was a soothing voice, as she pulled back the duvet and looked around for her clothes, which Tom had flung off her and dispersed around the room last night. He glanced at her briefly, shaking his head and muttering something inaudible under his breath.

"It's going to be hours yet. Almost all first labours go on for a long time before it really gets going. I know she says that she's in pain and I'm sure she is, but to be honest, this is just the first stage, it's going to get a lot worse. " He looked at her sceptically.

"Honestly." she continued "I'm coming with you because I'm sure that she isn't actually in active labour yet."

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"There's a first stage, when the body gets itself ready and stretches. It's painful, but we don't consider it to be active labour until she's 4cm dilated; then we know that the baby and the body are working together and the cervix is properly opening. Even then, it still takes a few hours, so it's best not to get into the hospital before that point. Think one hour per centimetre, but longer for the first part. I'd say on average 15-20 hours for a first labour. Once I've had a look at her and seen what her contractions are like, I suspect I'll be recommending that she just gets into the bath with some paracetemol and stays at home for a few hours."

"I still want to get there as soon as possible, I don't like the thought of her being in pain and on her own."

"Of course. Give me 2 minutes and we'll go."

As Tom opened the front door, he paused and muttered "Oh Christ". Sybil peered round him to see that the ground was covered in about 8 inches of snow, with more continuing to fall heavily. Moving quickly back into the bedroom, she pulled out a pair of wellington boots from a cupboard. Tom however, had no alternative but to step into it wearing the leather shoes he had been wearing the previous evening. On reaching the eerily silent main high street, there were tyre tracks in the road, although no sign of any vehicles as they tried to hurry along the pavements. It wasn't an easy walk, the usual childlike pleasure from stepping into untouched snow was absent on this occasion and Tom cursed under his breath it clung to the bottom of his trousers and soaked his shoes, leaving his toes feeling numb. Fresh flakes stuck their faces and Sybil felt them catch heavily in her hair, trickling slowly down the back of her neck.

They saw lights by the main crossroads next to the station and as they approached, the silhouette of a double decker bus was visible at an unusual angle across the road which led to Tom and Edie's flat. The driver was standing on a nearby pavement, talking on a mobile phone as they passed.

"Are you OK?" asked Sybil, and an impatient Tom tugged at her coat sleeve, anxious to continue their journey.

"I just skidded across the road and now it won't start" the man explained, shrugging his shoulders. "I only had two passengers left, so they've both said that they'll walk home from here. My boss is sending someone out from the depot, but God knows how long it's going to take in this."

"Are you going to be alright out here?" Sybil was concerned by the temperature and continuing snowfall, but the man nodded.

"Ta love, it's fine. There's a caff round the corner that's open all night, I'll go in there. Can't do much here now anyway. I'll leave a note on the bus." He smiled ruefully. "I'll be popular when the commuters start, won't I?"

"I don't think anyone's going anywhere fast this morning" replied Tom and pulled on Sybil's arm once again.

As they entered the communal corridor which led to the flat, Sybil could hear Edie's low moan. It was a sound familiar to her from her training and she knew that she needed to provide some comfort and support. Edie was kneeling on the floor in the living room, her head resting on her folded arms against the sofa. She looked up gratefully as they entered.

"It's…..every…minute…." she gasped and Sybil quickly knelt down by her and held her hand.

"Breathe through it Edie, nice and slowly….." Edie winced in pain and then let out a relieved sigh as it came to an end.

"Well done, that's great" Sybil tried to offer some reassurance " Let's just see how long until the next one and then we'll ring the hospital." She slipped off her coat and walked across the room to throw it onto Tom's bed from the door. He was standing by the kitchen, looking helpless and his face was filled with anxiety.

"Tom, can you get Edie a glass of water and me a cup of tea please?" Sybil wanted to give him a task so that he could feel involved and keep busy. "Would you like a cold cloth for your forehead and neck?" she asked Edie gently.

As Edie nodded, her face contorted with pain once again and she reached out to Sybil's hand for support.

"Deep breaths…." murmured Sybil calmly. "Breathe in…and out, that's it…..you're doing brilliantly….that's great….."

As Edie relaxed once again, Sybil looked across at Tom. "It seems to be moving on pretty quickly, I think we should probably get her to hospital soon. Can you ring them and let them know you're coming?"

She sensed his hesitation and added "I can come too, if you want?"

"It's not that" he replied "although yes…I would like you to come…I'm worried about the car in this snow."

"Ask for an ambulance then" said Sybil decisively. "Just explain that the roads are horrendous, I'm sure we aren't the only people in this position tonight."

Tom went into Edie's room to fetch her maternity notes and Sybil could hear his voice softly on the phone.

"Edie, do you have your hospital bag ready?" she asked and Edie nodded, muttering "I just need a few bits from the bathroom". Her face tensed with the anticipation of pain once again and Sybil leant in to her, offering soft encouragement as she dealt with another contraction. When it ended, Tom cleared his throat behind them.

"They're sending an ambulance out but they don't know how long it will take in the snow….I told them about the bus, it's blocking their usual route."

"I'm sure it'll be fine" nodded Sybil with an air of authority. "We've still got plenty of time." Edie's face crumpled and she looked pleadingly at Tom.

"I can't do this much longer" she wailed and he came over to sit by her, putting his arm around her shoulders and softly kissing her cheek.

"Can she take anything?" he asked Sybil quietly, who shook her head.

"Nothing in your bathroom cabinet is going to do the trick at this point…..you need to stay calm, Edie. You CAN do this and you will….when the ambulance gets here, they'll give you some gas and air, which will help relieve it a bit. Once you get to hospital, they can give you something if you need it."

She passed over a glass of water and encouraged Edie to take a sip. Another couple of contractions passed and Edie shrieked with the increased pain. Tom was standing by the window, looking down on to the small car park which was attached to their building and glancing at his phone, willing it to ring with a paramedic requesting final directions.

"OH GOD!" yelled Edie and sat back on her haunches, twisting to hold on to Sybil's shoulders. "I need to push!"

Sybil shook her head, "No, you mustn't. It's not time yet, I know it feels like…"

"You don't know how it feels…." shouted Edie desperately "I'm telling you….."

Sybil hesitated and swallowed deeply before turning to Tom.

"Ring again…..ask where they are."

He nodded and disappeared into his bedroom briefly, before returning ashen faced.

"Trying to cross the river" he whispered "they've got to go over the bridge in order to get back here again because of the bus….they said 20-30 minutes."

"Right!" announced Sybil, more confidently than she felt. "I'm going to have to examine you, Edie and we'll find out if you really need to push or not…Tom, can you get some towels please? I'll be back in a minute."

She went into the bathroom and held her hands under the hot tap for as long as she could bear it, scrubbing them with soap. When she returned, she asked Edie to lie down on a towel and apologised in advance for any additional pain she might cause. Once finished, she sat back on her haunches and tried to keep still for a moment in order to dispel the feeling of dizziness that threatened to overcome her.

"Well, you're fully dilated, Edie, so yes, your little boy is ready to come out."

"Oh God….." moaned Tom from the other side of the room. "Now what do we do?"

Sybil stood up with all of the authority that she could muster. "I'm going to deliver him." Tom looked at her with alarm.

"Don't worry, I am a midwife!" she looked at Edie and smiled warmly. "I helped deliver over 40 babies as part of my training, so I promise you that I know what I'm doing." Ignoring the voice inside her head that was screaming 'but never alone…..', she put her hand on Tom's arm.

"Can you get more towels please….I'm afraid they will probably get ruined, so the oldest you've got…..then, do you have any of those muslin squares?" she turned to Edie, who once again had her face buried in the cushions of the sofa with pain.

"I think I know where they are" Tom muttered.

"And a baby blanket if you've got one, doesn't matter if not, I can wrap him in a muslin"

When Tom returned, Sybil laid the towels over the carpet and sofa and rubbed Edie's back.

"OK, Edie….when the next contraction comes, we need a big push, deep into your bottom. Try to count to 10 in your head….Let's get these pyjama trousers off….Tom, sit on the sofa and hold her hand…" She looked at him pleadingly…'please be calm about this' she willed.

Edie nodded when she felt the pain rising and did as she had been asked, gasping for air at its end. Sybil looked down and smiled.

"Brilliant…he's coming….just keeping doing exactly that…."

A few minutes later, Edie screamed in pain and Sybil guided her son's head out.

"Blow...as if you are blowing candles out on a birthday cake" she instructed, as she checked that the umbilical cord was not wrapped around the baby's neck.

"And one more, Edie…come on….."

Accompanied by a final, determined scream from his mother, Aiden Colm Thomas Branson made his first appearance in the world. Sybil rubbed his nostrils and chest with a muslin until he cried out, at which point she lifted him onto Edie's chest and covered them both with a blanket.

"Hello" Edie whispered with wonder and her eyes filled with tears. Sybil sat back and felt as if she was breathing for the first time in several minutes, she bowed her head in relief and watched her hands shaking involuntarily on her lap. Looking up, she saw Tom stroke his nephew's tiny head and lean forward to kiss him.

"I'll just go and wash my hands" she whispered and made her way to the bathroom, at which point she sat down hastily on the toilet lid. Covering her face with her hands, she began to sob, filled with relief, joy and other overwhelming, yet unrecognised emotions. The doorbell rang and she stood up, quickly washed her hands, then splashed her face briefly, glancing at her pale reflection in the mirror.

The paramedics were very apologetic "it's a nightmare out there, sorry it took so long….everything OK?"

"It's all done" replied Sybil to their surprise "he's born." She smiled reassuringly "I'm a qualified midwife, so it was fine…"

They went into the living room, congratulated Edie and Tom, then cooed enthusiastically over Aiden.

"He's a month early…" Sybil advised and the female member of staff nodded her head "We'll take him back and get him checked out."

"She's been an outpatient at St. Mary's…." Sybil informed her and the woman nodded.

"We've come from Lambeth hospital, so we'll have to take her back there. If they want to transfer her later, then they will, but I doubt they'll need to, to be honest. He looks fine."

She started to pull out a notebook from her shirt pocket "Can I take your name?" she asked, smiling. "You did a great job, well done."

Sybil hesitated "Do I need to give my name?" she asked.

The paramedic looked at her with sudden suspicion "I thought you said that you're a midwife? Is there a problem?"

"No, no…" Sybil shook her head and smiled "Um, it's Sybil Crawley, I'm based at St. Mary's"

She collected some of Edie's toiletries from the bathroom and added them to the small suitcase stored in the corner of her bedroom. Passing Tom some clean pyjamas for his sister, she stood back and felt an increasing sense of gravity overtake her. There was no doubt that the information given to the paramedic would be passed back to her department and Miss Dawson's attention. Regardless of the competence and intuition she had shown throughout tonight's proceedings, she knew that her integrity and trust would be brought into doubt and she feared for the subsequent outcome.

As the paramedics helped Edie to her feet and into a wheelchair, Tom came over to her and wrapped his arms around her tightly.

"You were fantastic" he murmured into her neck "Thank you so much."

Sybil smiled and kissed his cheek. "All in a day's work" she joked.

"Are you coming with us?" he asked and she shook her head.

"I have to try and get into work….I'll clear up here and go home for a shower." He frowned briefly and she smiled reassuringly. "Honestly….I need to go in. I'll just have to throw all these towels in the dustbin downstairs, I'm afraid, but I'll ring you at lunchtime, OK and I'll see you later."

"I can't get over how brilliant you were….I know it's your job and everything, but you were just so calm…."

"I didn't actually feel very calm…" she confessed with a whisper.

"Oh God, you're wonderful" he muttered, his voice cracking slightly as the buried his face in her hair. "I….I…lo…." he cleared his throat and put his hands gently around her cheeks. She smiled at him through slightly misty eyes.

"Go…." she said softly. "I'll see you later…."

All evidence of the night's activities cleared, Sybil put on her coat and eased her feet back into her wellington boots before letting herself out of the flat. Slowly and cautiously, she stepped back out into the snow and prepared herself for the night's inevitable consequences.


	13. Chapter 13

_Penultimate chapter! As I've decided to write a sequel, there will no longer be an epilogue to this story._

* * *

As predicted, London's train network was in chaos that morning and frustrated commuters queued impatiently at Clapham Junction station, spilling back out on to the concourse. Sybil turned around and decided to walk across the common to the nearest tube station, which she hoped might offer a swifter way to get to work. However, delays were in place throughout and after an uncomfortable few stops in a crowded carriage, she decided to get out and walk across the city's centre. By the time she arrived at work, it was past eleven o'clock. She had already telephoned to apologise in advance, but was pleased to note that their receptionist was unbuttoning her coat and had clearly also only just arrived.

"Is Miss Dawson in?" asked Sybil tentatively and her colleague nodded.

"Thankfully most of the patients have cancelled, only one's here and she's so relieved to have got here in one piece, she says that she's quite happy to sit and wait."

Sybil walked down the corridor to Miss Dawson's office and knocked softly on the door. Called in, she opened the door with hesitation and smiled at her mentor.

"Hi Sybil, well done for getting here, you've got more determination than some of your colleagues." Miss Dawson's approach was friendly and she relaxed a little.

"So….what do you want me to do first?" she asked

"Sarah McPherson is in the waiting room, she's possibly going to be our only patient today. Can you tell her that we'll see her in ten minutes?" Sybil nodded gratefully and began to back out of the door.

"Oh, and Sybil…..?" Miss Dawson continued to write some notes as she spoke and didn't look up again.

"Yes?"

"I'd like to have a little chat with you later, please. After lunch, say 1.30? In here."

"Yes….of course…." Sybil found that her voice sounded a little hoarse, so she coughed briefly, feeling gradually nauseous at the implication of this request.

She couldn't eat any lunch as she worried about her subsequent meeting, although she pretended that all was well when she telephoned Tom and checked that Edie and Aiden had no complications. Sitting in the staff room with her colleague, Stephanie who had also made the journey in, she attempted to bite into her homemade sandwich, but it tasted dry and unpalatable. She smiled and nodded as Stephanie chattered in a friendly tone, describing her journey in to work and the likely pitfalls of travelling home again later.

On schedule, Sybil knocked on Miss Dawson's door once again and was invited in.

"Please take a seat" she did as she was asked, holding her left wrist with her right hand in order to make her nerves less visible. Miss Dawson put her pen down and looked at Sybil intently for a moment.

"Edie Branson delivered this morning…" she began, with a querying tone to her voice. Sybil didn't dare speak and nodded with a light smile, not wanting to offer any implication to this news.

Miss Dawson began to pull a file out of her desk. "Yes, she delivered at home….but apparently, there was a very competent midwife at hand to help her." Her gaze returned to Sybil and she turned her head slightly to one side, her eyes challenging for a response.

Sybil looked down at her hands and coughed apprehensively. "Yes….I know…." she confirmed quietly. Miss Dawson leant back in her chair and sighed briefly.

"Right, so would you like to explain how you came to be in her flat at 5 o'clock in the morning?"

Sybil nodded nervously and her right hand fiddled with her wrist. "Um, I've started seeing her brother you see and obviously, I know I should have told you that and I'm very sorry, but I thought…."

"…..what disappoints me the most, Sybil…" interrupted Miss Dawson with a tone of frustration "…..is that I specifically asked you, several months ago, if you had a personal relationship with the Bransons and you denied it."

Sybil looked at her aghast "But I didn't then, I promise you, I wouldn't have lied to you like that….."

"I cannot bear deceit!" Miss Dawson cried and slapped her hand down on the desk. Sybil's eyes filled with tears and she swallowed heavily in order to compose herself. Clearing her throat once again, she sat up, looked directly ahead and began to speak as calmly as possible.

"Please believe me, Miss Dawson. I did not lie to you when you asked me that question. That day was probably the beginning of our relationship, but I didn't know it at the time. I was genuinely trying to do him a favour without any consequences, but he bought me flowers to say thank you and then we went out…."

"Yes, thank you Sybil, I don't need a step by step guide to your relationship" Miss Dawson snapped crossly.

"But I need to explain! …..please…let me explain….?" she looked at her pleadingly and Miss Dawson sighed and nodded.

"I told Edie that I was going to let you know that things had changed, but she became very distressed by the thought of having another midwife." Sybil thought it wise to omit Edie's comment about Miss Dawson seeming intimidating. "I knew you would make that decision if you were made aware about me and Tom and that I was seeing Edie outside of the clinic. It was very clear to me how anxious the situation was going to make her. I realise that it wasn't my decision to make, but I genuinely felt that it was in her and the baby's best interests to stay assigned to me…..I wasn't reluctant myself to tell you about it, it really didn't matter to me if she saw another midwife, but I just did what I thought was best for Edie….and the baby…." she tailed off.

"Well, you're right about one thing, Sybil" remarked Miss Dawson "it wasn't your decision to make. It was mine." Sybil nodded and waited, she felt that there was no further point in trying to plead her case.

Miss Dawson fiddled with her pen for a moment and sighed again. "You're such a good midwife, Sybil….this is so frustrating." She paused "I don't doubt that your heart was in the right place, but you've only been a midwife for a few months and you just don't have the experience, or the competence yet to make that kind of decision. These rules are in place for good reason. However, it might well have been that I agreed with you, considering all other consequences, and I may have made an exception under the circumstances…But it should have been me that made the call, not you….do you understand?" Sybil nodded and felt her eyes brimming once again. Miss Dawson handed her a tissue from the box intended for patients on her desk and looked thoughtful again.

"I haven't got any choice but to record this in your file as an official verbal warning, I'm afraid." She looked more kindly at Sybil and smiled.

"Don't let this halt your progress and development though. You've got a promising future ahead of you, I could see that from the moment I first interviewed you…I was reluctant to hire you at first, to be honest, because of your mother's involvement in the funding we get from the Miscarriage Association." Sybil's head snapped up with surprise and Miss Dawson nodded.

Yes, I do know who your parents are….it speaks well of you that you've never brought it up. I'm guessing that your colleagues don't know you're a Lady?" Sybil shook her head.

"Well, as far as I am concerned, we'll just put this behind us and move on." Miss Dawson gave a little laugh "I presume that you're not going to make a habit of it….?"

Sybil smiled "No, definitely not….."

"Well, tomorrow is another day. Could you help Stephanie with a stock check of the store cupboard as we're so quiet and then you can both leave early and battle on home."

Sybil murmured her grateful thanks and started to stand up.

"He seems a very decent man…." Miss Dawson acknowledged "….I hope it all works out for you. People meet in all sorts of unusual situations, I suppose. I met my partner at my own engagement party…"

"Goodness!" replied Sybil with surprise "he must have made quite an impression."

"Yes…" Miss Dawson responded, nodding and offering a coy smile "she did."

* * *

Sybil left work shortly after 3pm and endured a slow journey back on the tube to Clapham North. From there she made the short distance on foot to Lambeth Hospital. Aiden was under observation because he was premature, but Tom had mentioned on the phone earlier that there didn't seem to be any particular call for concern and that the consultant had advised Edie she could probably return home within a few days.

Sybil made her way to the maternity ward, where Tom greeted her with a warm hug and full kiss on the lips. 'That'll have them all speculating…" he murmured, turning to Edie who smiled and rolled her eyes. Sybil looked at him in confusion as she bent down to kiss Edie's cheek and gently stroke Aiden's head.

'Everyone keeps congratulating me" he explained "and I'm quite enjoying the attention, so I haven't told them otherwise…." He gave a big grin "…and now I've just kissed you, so they'll all be thinking that we're in some very liberal open relationship and all bringing up Aiden together….it'll give them all something to talk about when they get home."

Sybil giggled and pulled a chair up to the bed. "How are you feeling?" she asked Edie.

"Not bad actually….a bit sore, obviously, but it's OK." She leant forward and put her hand on Sybil's arm "you were just brilliant, thank you so much…..I'm sorry that I shouted at you at one point."

"I was on the receiving end of much worse during my training, I can tell you." Sybil reassured "It's fine. I was a bit scared myself actually, because as you know I've only worked in the ante-natal department since my training and so I've never actually done a delivery on my own; but in the end, adrenalin kicked in." She glanced at Edie and added "obviously, I wasn't going to draw that to either of your attention at the time."

"Well you were fantastic" Tom added "I was a wreck and without you, I'd have been just running round the flat like a headless chicken." Sybil smiled, imagining such a scenario.

"Aiden's a lovely name…" she said, stroking the baby's cheek.

"I just really like it" Edie replied "it's pretty similar to my name, Eden, but nobody ever calls me that anyway and I thought it would work in England or in Ireland. Colm is after Dad and Thomas, obviously after Tom."

"When's your Mum coming over?"

Edie glanced at Tom "Tomorrow, hopefully. She'd have been on the first flight today, but they're all backed up because of the snow."

Tom grinned "Apparently she's going to be at Dublin airport at 7am tomorrow and says she isn't moving until they let her on a plane. I've sent her some photos from my phone, so she'll be showing all the check-in staff and making sure they know the importance of young Master Branson…they won't dare let her wait too long, they'll be dying to get her out of there, I should think."

"Could I have a little cuddle please?" Sybil asked shyly, nodding at Aiden who was sleeping in his mother's arms.

"Of course!" Edie replied and leant forward in her bed. Sybil cautiously took the baby from her and sat back in her chair, gazing down at him and gently stroking his head."

"I should be a bit immune to babies after my training, but they're all so special and I think this little man is the most amazing of all….." As she spoke, she glanced up at Tom on the other side of the bed, who was watching her intently. She couldn't quite read the expression on his face, but he smiled and then gave a brief sigh before looking down at the floor.

They stayed chatting for another hour or so and Tom insisted on showing her "my excellent nappy changing skills", while Sybil was able to help Edie to get Aiden to latch on and have a reasonable feed.

"It'll get easier" she reassured "you're both still getting used to one another." They were all yawning by early evening, the result of their night time activity now taking effect.

"Are you going to be OK if we go home?" Tom asked Edie with concern. "I'll come back tomorrow morning, hopefully with Mam in tow."

Edie nodded. "Yes, that's fine. I'm OK, I'm tired too. I think I'll just try and get some sleep while I can, I'm sure he'll keep me busy throughout the night."

Tom and Sybil trudged hand in hand over Clapham Common towards Sybil's flat, following a now well-trodden path of snow, each yawning intermittently.

"Earlier today, I thought that I'd take you out for a celebratory meal tonight and ply you with champagne" began Tom "but I think I might have to delay it until the weekend…"

"I wouldn't do it justice today" admitted Sybil "I'm emotionally worn out" and she told him about her meeting and reprimand with Miss Dawson. Tom was horrified by what had taken place and felt personally responsible. However, Sybil assured him that she had been fully aware of the implications of her choice and was the only one culpable. She was determined to comply with Miss Dawson's request to start afresh and to not let the situation mar her future career.

"But I don't regret a thing…" she assured him, squeezing his hand tightly.

Back at the flat, having half-heartedly eaten a Chinese takeaway, they relaxed in the living room; Sybil sprawled across her sofa, trying to stay awake a little longer, while Tom sat back thoughtfully in an armchair, his hands folded across his lap, looking up at the ceiling.

"Does it not put you off?….." he began tentatively and Sybil raised her head from a cushion to watch him as he continued "….seeing all that pain and blood, doesn't it put you off wanting to have one of your own?"

She shook her head. "I can see that the end result is worth it…..I mean, I don't suppose that I shall ever look forward to the actual pain and everything, but…..no, I still think I'd like to have my own, one day."

"When I held Aiden today…" Tom said softly "I was just overwhelmed by how much I loved him…..and I thought, that if I feel this strongly when it's my nephew, then how will I feel if I ever have one of my own…?."

"It's supposed to be amazing…" agreed Sybil "….that parental bond and love…."

"And all I kept thinking…."he paused for a moment, continuing to look at the ceiling. "I just thought….." he cleared his throat nervously. Sybil waited as she saw the hesitation in his face, his gaze turning to her and betraying an unusual lack of confidence.

"I thought that I hope I'm lucky enough to have one of my own, one day and if I am, I just hope it's with you."

He had scarcely drawn a breath after this declaration before Sybil jumped up and flew across the room towards him.

"I love you" she whispered as she landed on his lap. "I've known for a while but I didn't know if you felt the same…."

Tom's face broke into a huge smile and he wrapped his arms around her tightly.

"I am so completely and utterly in love with you…." he muttered and kissed her firmly on the mouth. "…so much so that it actually hurts at times!" he looked momentarily indignant by this thought before adding "I've never felt like that before."

Sybil leant back and gave him a quizzical smile. "Not even with Sophie Healy?" she teased.

Tom looked surprised for a second and then laughed "No, definitely not with Sophie Healy." He drew her to him once again and kissed her longingly before pulling away again.

"I guess" he considered "that makes you officially the love of my life…."

"And the last love of your life…." suggested Sybil softly as she wriggled around on his lap to put her arms around his neck.

"Oh God, I hope so….." he agreed and pulled her in happily towards him once again.


	14. Chapter 14

Edie and Aiden returned home after five days, the consultant satisfied that the baby was a good weight and was breathing easily without assistance. Tom temporarily moved into Sybil's flat in order to give Elaine his bedroom and to enable him to concentrate and work during the day. They glowed in new found confidence with each other, repeating endearments frequently and revelling in the novelty of hearing them from each other's lips. On greeting the chaos of baby paraphernalia within his flat, he wondered how he would ever be able to work there again; for one so small and delicate in appearance, Aiden seemed to have an extraordinarily powerful pair of lungs. The slightest disturbance while he napped would have Edie visibly tensing with frustration and anxiety, despite their mother's assurance that he was still finding his natural rhythm and routine. The young mother was easily tearful, her milk had come in a little later than usual due to his premature arrival and she was awash with emotion and the enormity of her task ahead. Tom popped in daily, but briefly, assuring both women that he would become more involved once Elaine had returned to Dublin.

Kieran came down to meet his nephew and enthusiastically reacquainted himself with Gwen in the comfort of Sybil's spare room. Their audible enjoyment sent Tom hiding under Sybil's duvet with embarrassment.

"Christ….can you just let me know when it's all over….?" he muttered in horror, as Sybil giggled and put her fingers in her ears.

"Please tell me that we don't sound like that in the throes of passion?" he asked pleadingly and Sybil slid down under the covers to join him, tears of mirth now brewing.

"Well Gwen has always been very…..um….vocal about what she wants in life…" she suggested.

"She needs to come with a bloody instruction manual….Jesus, I hope he's taking notes, it sounds exhausting!"

"You know, there's only one way to drown out the noise…."

Tom began to slowly lift her pyjama top and pressed his lips softly to her stomach. "Mmmmm, I guess….if you can't beat them…..then you just have to join them…."

* * *

The Daily Mail published Tom's article about miscarriage and the loss of funding for future research, which led to further comment and analysis in other papers, as well as a segment on BBC breakfast news. He was pleased that he'd been able to help Cora as promised and Sybil was grateful for the coverage, which had been well received by her colleagues and praised by Miss Dawson. He took more pleasure, however, from his second printed unsolicited article that month, entitled 'Leading by Inexperience', which was bought by The Independent. This tore apart the Conservative Party's selection policy for candidates who required no independent experience outside of the political field. While he acknowledged that there were similar isolated examples amongst other parties, he listed those Tories who had gained seats in the last election having worked solely for the party since their education. Describing an anonymous potential candidate for the future, he heavily criticised the lack of objective foresight available to represent the electorate in the future and the life of protected privilege from which he came. The issue was debated heavily in the press and on TV and the Prime Minister himself was called upon to defend his party's selection process. Sybil recorded and repeatedly re-played the section of BBC News in which the PM was seen leaving an industry visit and saying to the waiting press corps outside "Yes, I've read Tom Branson's article and I'd like to stress that the Conservative Party values candidates from all walks of life….."

Sybil received a furious email from Larry in which he threatened to sue for defamation. Tom scoffed at the suggestion. "I didn't even mention him. I've obviously tapped a nerve."

The Independent asked him to write a follow up article the following week, listing what attributes the public valued in their politicians and he received other offers of work on the back of it. Unwittingly one evening, as he and Sybil kept Edie and a restless Aiden company, he voiced the thought which had been floating around his head.

"Your Dad was right, I have benefitted professionally from knowing you…" He regretted it as soon as the words were spoken; Sybil's eyes flashed with defensive outrage.

"What do you mean?...What did my Dad say to you…..and when?!"

"Don't get angry with him Sybil, please…." he begged after he gave her a heavily edited version of his New Year conversation at Downton. "He loves you and he was just trying to protect you. He didn't know me from Adam…."

Sybil ranted at the injustice of such allegations, but he kissed her hand and whispered. "You know, if we ever have a daughter, I'll do exactly the same…"

The Political Editor of The Guardian emailed him and asked him to come into their offices for a chat. One of their Westminster correspondents was moving to Brussels in order to cover the EU later in the year and they wanted to know if he might be interested in applying for the vacant post. He was elated, but refused Sybil's offer of a celebratory meal out. "Nothing's in the bag until they hand me an offer" he clarified. "They're legally obliged to advertise it externally and we don't know who else might apply…..But it's a good sign that they're asking me to."

As a result of the additional work available, he finally handed in his notice at the garage. Dave was sorry to see him go, especially as another member of staff had asked to go part time in order to retrain at college.

"Kieran was asking me about job opportunities down here, so I mentioned that to Dave" he told Sybil, whose eyes nearly popped out of her head with excitement.

"Really, is he thinking about coming to live in London?"

"Just considering it at the moment, yes."

"Is this to do with Gwen?"

"I think she's an added bonus, rather than the primary reason behind it….No, he said at Christmas that he was considering moving on."

"I thought he liked Liverpool?"

"I don't think he hates it…..but he says that his life just hasn't moved on in the five years he's been there and he's getting a bit tired of doing the same job, going to the same pubs with the same mates…."

"Does he know anyone else here?"

"No, but that won't bother him, he'll talk to anyone. He talked a lot about the importance of family over Christmas…..I think he's growing up a bit….maybe Aiden's arrival has made him think….he's asked a couple of friends in Dublin about job options too, so it's a toss up between there and here….depends what comes up, I guess…..Dave said that he should give him a call though"

"Would you like him to be in London?"

Tom was thoughtful for a moment "Yes, I would….I mean, Mam would love to have him home, of course, but yeah, it would be good to have him here…..I couldn't wait to get away from him when I first came over, he was getting into all sorts of trouble, but I think going to Liverpool was a good move at the time…..it got him away from a bad crowd at home."

He paused again. "Maybe it is having the next generation arrive, but it feels right to have my family here with me…..and you of course…..it feels like life is slotting into place."

* * *

Robert was in the House of Lords for a couple of days in late February and he invited Sybil and Tom out for dinner with him and Cora. Tom was pleased to be included but felt rather tentative about the possible reaction to his second article and the publicity it had received.

"I'm so grateful for your help, Tom" gushed Cora as they toasted the increased activity and support offered to the Miscarriage Association since the discussion surrounding Tom's piece.

"So, what do you think of Tom's other recent article, Dad?" asked Sybil in a challenging tone. "Even the Prime Minister has been talking about him…."

Robert sipped his wine slowly and nodded before looking directly at Tom. "I think you made some interesting…..and relevant points." There was an uneasy silence before he continued.

"It's created rather a hoo-ha really….suddenly there are potential candidates being told to go and get a job for a few years and some of the researchers who thought this was the easy ride to Parliament are now reconsidering their careers…..Really, it's given the whole system a good shake up and I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing."

The corners of his mouth suddenly twitched and he glanced fondly at Sybil.

"And apparently, Larry Grey is absolutely furious, so I think that deserves another toast, don't you?"

Sybil tentatively raised her thoughts about medical school to her parents, who were surprised but after hearing her well thought out argument, offered their unconditional support. Sybil didn't want to let them know about her reprimand at work and the reasons behind it, but the incident had added fuel to her interest in studying further.

"I know that Miss Dawson was right and that I'm not experienced enough to make the bigger decisions at the moment" she had told Tom one weekend "but I want to be making them some day, I don't want to be the one who has to pass it over to somebody else."

"I told you before that I'll support you if you want to do it." he assured her "but you can see how hard Gwen is working and if that doesn't put you off…."

"Well as long as you know that I'd still make time for you, regardless….I mean, I'd have to study at weekends and some evenings, but it wouldn't change anything fundamental…"

"You'd still love me…..?"

"Always….."

* * *

"You know, for someone who's sharing a flat with a relatively new born baby" suggested Sybil a few weeks later "you're looking remarkably refreshed."

Tom shrugged and looked a little abashed. "Well it isn't really affecting my sleep patterns, to be honest…if Edie hadn't been able to feed him herself then I'd have offered to do some night feeds….but she has, so there's not a lot I can do….I hear him cry and then I'm afraid that I just roll over and go back to sleep."

They were reading the newspaper in Sybil's living room one Saturday morning, Tom revelling in not having to get up early and work in the garage. Sybil seemed rather restless and was flicking rapidly through the magazine supplement, getting up and then sitting swiftly back down again.

"You know…..Edie's going to find it hard having Aiden in her bedroom after a few months, when he starts getting mobile…"

"Well she's not going to have much choice" Tom replied "Even if I do get that job at The Guardian, I can't stretch to a three bedroomed flat yet and nor can Edie once she's paying out for nursery fees."

"I know, but I was wondering….."

"What….?"

"How about…..when she's a bit more sorted….you move in here with me…..?"

Tom's face broke into a broad smile "I can't think of anything nicer than waking up with you every single morning, but Edie can't afford to stay there on her own, Sybil"

"She wouldn't have to…..you know this place is all paid off…" she looked awkward, aware of the financial advantage she possessed and its relative injustice. He nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"So you could just contribute to the bills and still pay half of the rent at your flat…."

"And what would your Dad think about that, do you think? I mean, it's his flat and he already thinks I've taken advantage of you for my career…"

"It's not his flat anymore"

Tom looked at her quizzically "How come?"

"Because he's signed it over into my name….he sent me all the documents last week."

Tom raised his eyebrows "Wow….that's quite a present…."

"Well, I knew that he probably would eventually…..he did the same for Mary when she first went to Manchester."

"But don't you think that he'll still mind, even though he technically can't do anything about it? I don't want to be the cause of any bad feeling between him and you…."

"You won't…..he's given you the seal of approval."

Tom gave a little laugh "What, did you ask him about me moving in before you even asked me?"

Sybil shook her head "I didn't have to…..hang on a minute, let me get his letter and read it to you." She went into the spare bedroom and returned a couple of minutes later, holding a sheet of thick, expensive looking writing paper.

"The flat is for you to do with as you wish, darling" she recited. "I expect that you will want to make a home with Tom before too long and Mum and I want you to know that we are happy to welcome him into our family." She looked at him pointedly for a moment and smiled.

"I….I'm shocked.."

Sybil continued. "You may want to buy something bigger when you start a family of your own and so you are free to sell the flat and use the money as a deposit on something you buy together."

"Honestly….I'm flabbergasted….I don't know what to say…."

Sybil gave a brief grin "He then also enclosed a document on the importance of pre-nuptial agreements, but I can tell you for a fact that he sent Mary one of those as well, so don't think it's personal."

"He's thought it all through then…."

"Seems to have done, yes."

"He's a step or two ahead of me already, though."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, pre-nuptial agreements…does he have a timeline in mind for all of this?"

Sybil chewed her lower lip and looked at him thoughtfully before he continued.

"Because I'll ask you to marry me when I'm ready to do so, not when he thinks I should…..what are you grinning at?"

Sybil looked coy "So you're going to, are you….propose at some point?"

He took her hand and pulled her down towards him on the sofa. "Possibly…" he murmured. "When I think it's the right time…..and when you're not expecting it in the least…and when I'm absolutely one hundred percent certain that you'll say yes…."

"Oh I don't think you need to worry about that…" replied Sybil as she wrapped her arms around his neck and leant in for a long and loving kiss.

THE END

* * *

Coming soon(ish)….

**Walls Come Tumbling Down - **a sequel to Perfect Delivery, a modern AU.

Just as Sybil Crawley and Tom Branson have settled into their relationship, the lives of their siblings appear to be crumbling….

Featuring Tom/Sybil, Mary/Matthew, Kieran/Gwen, Edie/Aiden (added bonus – some Tom/Matthew bromance)

* * *

Thank you all so very much for your support.…I honestly did not expect such an overwhelmingly encouraging and positive reaction to my first foray into fiction after so many years. I've loved writing it and have fallen in love with my version of Tom and Sybil. I thank Mr Fellowes for lending them to me, but I'm not giving them back just yet….


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